Satisfy Me
by queenice83
Summary: Malfoy's Head Boy, Hermione's Head Girl. An unexpected romp gives them unexpected results, but can their dysfunctional relationship withstand a bet, a prophecy, and Voldemort? Probably longer than they can withstand each other.
1. Satisfaction

"Malfoy!" Hermione screeched, slamming the door to the portrait hole shut. She barreled into his room, where he and some random Slytherin sixth year laid, disheveled, under the blankets. "Get out," she said menacingly to the girl, who grabbed her clothes and scurried out the door, half naked.

"What the fuck, Granger! We weren't finished here!" Draco scowled angrily, shooting daggers at her.

"Well I just finished with patrol duties, which you missed for the third time in a row!" Hermione yelled. "Not to mention not attending Prefect meetings or helping me at all with Head duties!"  
>"Sorry, Granger," Malfoy sneered. "I guess I got tired of being around your Mudblood filth."<p>

There was a loud smack as Hermione's hand collided with Malfoy's cheek, and she stormed out of the room.

"What the hell was that for?" he shouted, chasing after her into the common room.

"You're a piece of SHIT, Malfoy!" Hermione screamed. "You're vile, you're foul, and just how much, I'd like to know, did your dad pay off Dumbledore to have you as Head Boy?"

"Watch it," he growled. "DON'T talk about my father. Or me. You don't know shit."

"Oh really? So I don't know that your dad was Lord Fucking Voldemort's right hand man and is probably rounding up a gang of Death Eaters to start a war as we speak?" Hermione spat.

"Fuck it, Granger!" Draco shouted, hurling a vase to the ground. Hermione jumped as it smashed to pieces, but stood her ground.

"Fuck YOU, Malfoy!" she shouted. "Fuck you and your pureblood shit, fuck you and your Slytherin whores, and fuck you for thinking you're some kind of God!" she whipped out her wand and jabbed it at his chest, looking him in the eye. "Fuck you," she said slowly, "for six years of taunting and bullying me for nothing better than my blood."

Malfoy's eyes flashed. "Sorry to inform you, Granger, but in the wizarding world – especially during this war – blood lineage matters. You don't see purebloods lining up in front of the Ministry getting their wands snapped, do you? And just because you've hardly been snogged doesn't mean you can insult the girls I've been with."

"Been with? Please! Don't make me laugh," Hermione shrieked. "You shag them and disappear, it's despicable. You're a disgusting prat, Malfoy! Why any girl would want to shag you I've yet to find out, it's-"

Hermione was cut off as Malfoy crashed his lips onto hers, knocking her wand out of her hand. His hands grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him. His tongue seeked entrance to her mouth and she parted her lips, granting it. He sucked on her tongue and bit softly on her bottom lip, making her moan. She wrapped her hands in his hair and drew him towards her so that their foreheads were touching as they kissed feverishly. Malfoy's hands made their way to her breasts, kneading them softly through the fabric of her blouse.

Hermione tilted her head to the left as Malfoy trailed kisses down her neck to her collarbone, while his hands ripped her blouse off of her. She gasped softly as he tore off her bra, his fingers brushing her nipples.

"Oh god," she gasped as he sucked on her left breast because straightening up and kissing her on the mouth again. Her hands fumbled with his shirt, hastily pulling it over his head. She brushed her fingers down his chest and over his chiseled abs, making him shudder. His mouth claimed hers again as he backed her against the wall, slamming his hands on either side of her as he grasped her skirt, pulling it harshly to the floor. She heard a soft rip as the fabric tore.

"Stop ruining my clothes," she moaned as his lips attacked her jawbone, his hands caressing her breasts. She felt him chuckle against her neck.

Suddenly aware that she was only in her knickers, she reached down to undo his belt, yanking his trousers down to the floor. He stepped out of them towards her, getting even closer than they were before. He pressed his forehead against hers, both of them drawing in ragged breaths, as he slowly slid a hand into her soaked underwear.

"Oh!" Hermione's breath hitched as he stroked her clit softly with one long finger. He kissed her deeply, his tongue dancing around hers, and she whimpered as his finger teased her entrance, finally sliding two inside her. Hermione bit back a moan as he thrust in and out, touching her in places she never thought could be touched. She felt his hard erection pressing against her thigh and reached down to stroke it, eliciting a low groan from Malfoy.

"Granger," he growled as she reached into his boxers and grasped his throbbing cock. She gave it a tentative stroke. "Fuck!" he bit out as he involuntarily grinded against her, panting. She sped up the stroking, matching his thrusts into her. She grabbed at Malfoy's hair and pulled him up for a passionate kiss, moaning against his lips as his thumb found her clit again and rubbed it hard.

She shook against his fingers. "Oh god, YES- MALFOY!" she screamed into his neck as she came with a shudder all over his fingers. She felt her knees tremble, but was determined to finish him off first. She gave him a few more hard, powerful strokes, making him moan loudly. His head fell against her shoulder as she pumped him.

"I'm coming," he breathed into her neck as he spilled all over her stomach.

They were both panting loudly, every inch of their bodies pressed against each other. Her forehead touched his and they stared at each other for a couple moments, their minds registering what just happened. She let go of his cock quickly and he backed away from her, adjusting his boxers. He grabbed her wand from where it lay, forgotten, and pointed it at her soaked abdomen.

"Scourgify," he muttered.

Hermione bent to retrieve her clothes but realized Malfoy had torn all of them but her knickers. She straightened up, a blush forming on her cheeks.

"Here." She looked up just as Malfoy tossed his shirt at her. She caught it, gratefully, pulling it over her naked body. They were both still for a moment; his expression was unreadable. Then, he turned and walked back to his room, the door shutting quietly behind them. Hermione walked slowly to her room, falling onto her bed tiredly, humiliation seeping through her pores. What had just happened? Her cheeks burned in shame at what they had done. Hot tears stung the back of her eyes as she remembered how she completely gave herself to him – she had never been touched or kissed like that by anyone before. She wiped her eyes on her shirt – _his _shirt – and involuntarily inhaled his intoxicating scent. The shirt was inside out, she realized, from when she had pulled it off him.

Hermione put her hands over her face. She didn't know what came over her to suddenly engage in a frenzied hook up with _Malfoy_, of all people. They hated each other. Confused, Hermione drifted into a dreamless sleep, her mind replaying the feel of Malfoy's body against hers over and over again.


	2. Aggravation & Conversation

The next morning when Malfoy woke up, Hermione was already gone. He saw she had repaired the shattered vase and her clothes that he had torn, which were folded in a neat pile on the couch. He also noticed his shirt and pants folded in a pile next to his door. He picked them up gingerly, as though Hermione was hiding underneath them. Placing them on his dresser, he caught a whiff of her scent still on her shirt, making something inside him stir. He shook his head free of thoughts and went to the bathroom to take a long, cold shower.

For the next two days, the two Heads studiously ignored each other. Hermione memorized Malfoy's Quidditch schedule and made sure to come back late from the library every night. Any chance encounters were regarded with complete silence from both parties.

Hermione was picking at her food during breakfast when Dean suddenly approached her. "Hey, Hermione!" he grinned at her.

She smiled. "Hi, Dean. What's up?"

"I was just wondering," he began, looking at her nervously, "if you'd want to go to the next Hogsmeade trip with me?"

Hermione blinked, surprised. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "I would love to, Dean!"

"Great," he smiled at her widely. "I'll see you, then!" he left to join with Seamus and Neville at the other end of the table.

Hermione smiled to herself. Maybe Dean was the just the thing she needed to distract herself from a certain blond haired Slytherin.

As though conjuring him with her mind, she looked up to find Malfoy's eyes practically boring holes into her.

She looked away, flushing, glad to have the distraction of Ron spilling pumpkin juice all over himself.

That night was patrol duties. Hermione had completely forgotten that she and Malfoy had Friday patrolling together, and dread filled her as she exited her room. He was waiting for her on the couch in the common room, watching her silently as she made her way towards him.

"Well," she said awkwardly. "Shall we go?"

He nodded briskly and stood up, walking with her to the portrait hole. She hesitated, but he gestured for her to go first.

They walked silently side by side; Hermione made sure to leave at least two feet of space between them. She saw Malfoy roll his eyes out of the corner of her eye.

"Honestly, Granger," he scoffed. "It's not like I have a disease. And besides, if I did, you would have caught it by now, don't you think?" he raised his eyebrow suggestively.

Hermione flushed, stepping a bit closer to him so that the sleeves of their robes brushed against each other.

"You've been avoiding me." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

Hermione's cheeks reddened even more, if possible. "What? No!" she squeaked. "I just – I've been really busy. At the library."

"Really," Malfoy said skeptically. "That's why whenever we pass each other in the hallways you scurry into some random corridor and wait until I leave?"

"I – That-" Hermione stammered. "That was only once," she blushed again, looking at her feet.

She could practically hear his smirk. "Really, Granger. Get over yourself. After all, you have Dean now, don't you?"

"What?" she asked, surprised. "No- well, that is, we're going to Hogsmeade together. That's it," she admitted.

"But he likes you."

"Uh," Hermione wondered what this was about. "I don't know. I mean, we're good friends. Not great, but close."

"Close," Malfoy repeated. "So has he fingered you too?"

Hermione blanched, coming to a halt. "Excuse me?" she whispered.

Malfoy stopped as well, turning to face her. She became acutely aware of how close he was – only a breath away.

"I was just wondering how close _we _are. Tell me, Granger, am I the only one who's touched you like that?" he asked softly.

Hermione felt her face heat up at the memory.

"Yes," she whispered.

She saw something flicker across his eyes –satisfaction? "Well, not for long, I guess." he said dismissively, and turned to continue walking.

Hermione grabbed his arm and spun him around, suddenly furious. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?" she snapped.

Malfoy shrugged. "He's got quite the reputation. That's all."

Hermione barked out a laugh. "You know, I can think of someone else with quite the reputation and I don't see you warning me about _him_. At least Dean doesn't go around calling himself the 'Gryffindor Sex God' and shagging every girl who glances twice at him!"

Malfoy stiffened. "I have never called myself that," he replied. "But I'm flattered, Granger." he smirked at her.

Hermione glared at him. "Isn't it ironic how you're warning me about Dean when I know more about him than you do?"

"Isn't it ironic," he spat, "that you say you're close to Dean when two days ago you were one step from shagging me?"

Hermione took a step back. "You don't know anything about closeness, Malfoy. Just because you shag someone doesn't mean you're close. Especially not in your case. I bet you don't even know the names of some of the girls you've been with."

"I know _your _name," he snapped, stepping towards her. "Hermione Mudblood Granger, know-it-all and top of the class since first year."

Hermione glared at him. "Yeah, well you weren't complaining when my _Mudblood _self was giving you a nice hard wank, were you? And may I remind you that _you_ kissed _me_. You started it. And we didn't even shag, so don't you dare add me as another notch on your bedpost."

"Please, Granger. If I made even the slightest move you probably would've pounced." Malfoy scoffed.

"_Not _likely," she spat. "Besides, judging by the amount of your _come _on my stomach, there wasn't any energy left in you to shag anything." she smirked a very Malfoy-ish smirk.

"It's not like you would know the proper amount, anyways. You're about as experienced as a house-elf. I bet that was your first kiss," he retorted.

"It was not!" Hermione replied hotly, shoving him away from her.

Malfoy let out a growl and then pinned her against the wall, attacking her lips with a ferocity she'd never known. Her body reacted enthusiastically, her arms tangling themselves in his hair even as she told herself to get a grip. He bit on her lip and traced her teeth with his tongue.

"Don't… Stop…" Hermione moaned, not sure if she was egging him on or trying to push him away.

"What was that?" Malfoy asked softly as he bit on the skin behind her ear.

Hermione melted into his arms, arching her back. "Don't stop," she breathed.

He smirked, his face inches from hers. "I told you, Granger. You can't resist me. Do yourself a favor and admit it already." He pulled away from her and continued walking down the corridor.

"FUCK YOU, Malfoy!" Hermione fumed at his retreating back. She heard him chuckle as he rounded the corner.


	3. A Little More Bite, A Little Less Bark

"I'm in deep shit," Draco announced, plopping down on the couch next to his best friend Blaise in the Slytherin common room.

"Hello to you too," Blaise greeted him with a nod. "What's the problem, mate?"

Draco huffed. "Granger."

Blaise's eyebrows raised. "The Mudblood?" he asked curiously. Draco sulked silently next to him, which made him chuckle. "Tough luck, Drake. I mean if I had to choose one girl in this entire school whose pants you couldn't get into, she'd be at the top of the list."

Draco scoffed. "I can get _any _girl at this school. They don't call me the 'Sex Prince' or whatever for nothing."

"Sex God."

"What?" Draco said irritably.

Blaise shrugged. "That's what they call you. And besides, Granger would bite your dick off before ever shagging you. And then there's the problem of Potty and Weasel. And the fact that she's a know-it-all. And a Muggleborn. _And _she hates every fiber of your being. And slapped you in third year." Blaise contemplated the situation. "Yeah, the odds aren't so good for you right now."

Draco rolled his eyes at Blaise's reasoning. "Whatever, I like a challenge. Besides, she's much easier to get than you'd think." He smirked to himself.

Blaise's eyes widened. "No shit!" he yelled, astounded. "You fucked the Mudblood? Already? Why are you in such a bad mood then?" He sat back in his seat. "Damn," he whispered incredulously.

"We haven't shagged yet, but we got pretty damn close." Malfoy grinned. "Trust me. By the end of the year, I can get the Gryffindor virgin in my bed, no problem."

"Are you willing to bet on that?" Blaise asked mischievously. Draco raised an eyebrow. "If you don't lay Gryffindor's Princess before graduation, you owe me 100 galleons."

"Done and done." They shook.

The next day at breakfast, Hermione fumed. How dare Malfoy just attack her like that? And then just leave! She knew she had little self control when it came to the Slytherin – something she had learned the hard way – but she wouldn't give in without a fight.

"Hey, Hermione!" Hermione looked up to see the attractive face of Dean Thomas.

"Dean!" she replied, smiling at him. "Come sit next to me," she patted the seat next to her.

Over at the Slytherin table, Draco felt an elbow jab into his ribs. He spluttered on his pumpkin juice and turned to glare at Blaise. "What?" he snapped.

Blaise nudged his head in the Gryffindor table's direction. "Sure you don't want to take back that bet?" he sniggered.

Draco whipped his head around to see what Blaise was going on about. The scene in front of him made his blood curl. There was Granger, practically sitting in Dean's lap. He whispered something into her ear and she giggled like some kind of twelve year old.

"Damn it!" he groaned. "What the hell's up with that Thomas bloke anyway? I heard he's a real tool." He looked away and began to pulverize his sausage.

Blaise shrugged. "He's alright. A good Quidditch player. I heard he's a mad drunk, though. Practically assaulted Madam Rosmerta last year."

Draco scoffed. "So he has to harass someone to get laid. Some competition." He pushed away from the table and grabbed his things, making his way out of the Great Hall, which didn't go unnoticed by the Head Girl, who grinned to herself as she watched Draco storm out.

Hermione practically bounced on her way to the Head dormitories that night. She knew Dean had gotten to Malfoy, and was happy to finally have the upper hand. She jumped through the portrait door and made her way to her room, but froze midway, staring at the scene in front of her.

Draco Malfoy, clad only in his boxers, leaning over a barely dressed Pansy Parkinson, who was moaning as Malfoy sucked at her neck.

"Ooh, yes! Draco," she cooed as his hand reached down between her legs.

"EXCUSE ME!" Hermione shouted, disgusted, as she watched Pansy writhe under Malfoy's ministrations.

Said Head Boy's head finally emerged, turning back to glance at Hermione. He had a satisfied smirk on his face. "Problem, Granger?" he drawled.

"Yes!" Hermione practically screamed. "Your bedroom is only ten feet away, Malfoy, so continue your shagging session in there before my eyes are scarred for life!"

Malfoy laughed at her. "But we're so comfortable here," he argued. "Aren't we, Pans?" he turned his back on Hermione once more to nuzzle and suck at Pansy's neck. She moaned appreciatively.

"Stop!" Hermione shrieked, hurling a book at Malfoy's back. "I _sit _there!"

Malfoy rubbed his back, annoyed.

"Get out of here, Mudblood!" Pansy yelled from her position on the couch. "You're ruining the mood, not to mention contaminating the room with your filth." she sneered as Malfoy snickered. "Besides, we've shagged on this couch before and you didn't seem to notice." she smirked.

Hermione glared at the couple. "Excuse me, I have to go and vomit." she told them, hastily crawling back out the portrait hole and getting as far away from her dormitory as possible.

Two hours later, when she was positive the coast was clear to return to her room, she entered back through the portrait hole to find Malfoy sitting on the couch alone, writing an essay. She strode up to him and saw him smirk at her, but chose to ignore him. Instead, she pointed her wand at the couch.

"_Scourgify_!" she said loudly. Malfoy laughed to himself, but stopped short when she turned on him. "And as for _you_," she yelled. "_Aguamenti!_" Water streamed out of her wand and soaked Malfoy's hair and robes. He shot up.

"What the hell was that for?" he shouted, his hair plastered to his face.

"You just hooked up with _Pansy_," Hermione said, disgusted. "Who knows what kind of diseases she's hiding under that ridiculously short skirt!"

Draco groaned and stripped off his watered down robe, and Hermione tried not to look at his chest, which was perfectly visible through his see through shirt.

"Stop ogling me, Granger," Malfoy smirked. "This isn't a free show, you know."

"Please," Hermione scoffed, averting her eyes as he took off his shirt as well.

"It's okay," he shrugged, grinning smugly. "I get that you find me irresistible. Stop trying to deny it." He winked at her.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "I find ferrets more irresistible than you. Oh wait," she gasped, feigning surprise. "You _are _a ferret. Professor Moody showed us that, didn't he?" she laughed.

Malfoy's cheeks turned pink. "He wasn't even a real teacher," he grumbled.

"But I'm sure he taught you a thing or two," she retorted.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "Too bad he didn't teach _you_ not to disturb people while they're busy."

"Too bad he didn't teach _you_ not to turn our dormitory into some kind of whorehouse! Besides," Hermione added conversationally, "I was only dropping off my things before I went to see Dean." To her delight, she saw Malfoy's eyes narrow even more, if possible, and she made her way to her dormitory with a smirk on her face.


	4. A Little More Action, Please

**Author's Note:**

**I want to clarify a few things before I continue with the story (I should've done this in the first chapter but I forgot. Sorry!). The sixth book never happened - Malfoy hasn't become a Death Eater, Dumbledore didn't die, and the Death Eaters never got in the castle. The story also isn't compliant with the seventh book, obviously. I'm sorry if the plot is a bit jumbled right now, I'm just writing out ideas as I get them so some subplots might be tweaked but the main idea that's in the story summary is the same, just very general so I might adjust it.**

**Also, I changed the amount of time Malfoy had to seduce Hermione from two weeks to the end of the school year. It just didn't seem reasonable :P and since I'm thinking about developing this into a novella or novel, he's gonna need more time!**

**Thanks for all the favorite story/story alert/review emails I got :) Keep them coming!**

"Missed me, Granger?"

Hermione whipped around to see Malfoy smirking at her, lying on her bed half naked. She screamed and fell backwards, watching with wide eyes as Draco suddenly transformed into a giant snake, slithering out of the covers and making its way to her. Its forked tongue slithered out, licking her toe, making her shriek and crawl out the door, bringing herself to her feet. As she ran to the portrait hole, she saw another Malfoy snogging a girl against the wall, and as she turned her head on her way out she caught a brief glimpse of the girl, who was moaning with pleasure.

She gasped, stopping in her tracks. It was _her_. Hermione watched the scene from a week ago unfold before her eyes, not noticing the snake crawl up her side and wrap itself around her shoulders. She felt a sharp pang as it bit down on her neck, and as her eyes fluttered shut the other Malfoy looked up, a silver glint in his eyes.

Hermione shot out of bed, breathing heavily and covered in sweat.

"Shit!" she shouted, throwing aside the covers and leaping out of bed. She was burning, and she stripped off her clothes rapidly as she made her way to the bathroom. Wrenching open the door to the shower, she flung herself inside, ready to cool down her burning body.

She realized something was wrong when she felt hot water hitting her feet.

"Morning, Granger."

Hermione froze. _Please, no, _she mentally prayed, even though she knew the only plausible person the voice could be attached to was a certain blonde haired Slytherin.

She turned around slowly, cheeks reddening. "Good morning, Malfoy." she said conversationally. He was smirking at her yet again. She allowed herself two seconds to admire his godly body, water falling off his shoulders like a waterfall, before snapping up to meet his gaze.

"Any reason why you've decided to join me for a shower?" he asked, chuckling. "Actually, I'd rather just know why you're drenched in sweat. Did you have a dream about me?" he winked suggestively.

"A nightmare, actually," Hermione grumbled, her hands folding across her chest in a vain attempt to hide her exposed body.

"Relax, Granger," Malfoy rolled his eyes. "It's not anything I haven't seen before."

Hermione blushed, but wrapped her arms more tightly around herself.

Draco watched her, bemused. "So are you going to just going to stand there and watch me or actually do something?"

She didn't budge, but proceeded to glare at him furiously.

"Fine," he shrugged. "I guess I just have to do it for you." Hermione's eyes widened in surprise as he squirted shampoo into his palm, rubbing his hands together before reaching up and carefully lathering her head. She felt soapy suds drip down her back as he slowly massaged the liquid into her scalp. The action felt so intimate to her, and she watched him as he focused on her hair, a slight smile on his lips.

Hermione later convinced herself that she slipped on the wet tile, but in reality she had flung herself at Draco and smashed her lips onto his, causing him to stagger backwards and hit the shower door. In one loud crash, the door snapped at the hinge and they both fell onto the floor, Hermione sprawled on top of Draco.

She scrambled to her feet, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around herself. Malfoy did the same, but much slower, rubbing his head with a pained expression on his face.

"Bloody hell," he complained. "What was that for?"

"I slipped," Hermione said defensively.

"Your lips _slipped _and fell onto my mouth?" he asked, smirking.

She chose to ignore him and turned instead to the broken shower door, grabbing her wand from next to the sink.

"_Reparo_." The door flew up and reattached itself to the wall.

"Thanks," Draco said, stepping in and closing the door after him. He threw his towel over the door and turned the faucet on.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked curiously. "We have class in 10 minutes!"

"Well, I wasn't able to finish showering because some deranged woman broke my shower door." He stated matter of factly through the glass.

"But you're going to be late!"

"Oh, no," Draco said sarcastically.

Hermione huffed in response and stalked out of the bathroom, grabbing her things and racing out the door. She arrived at Potions, panting, just as Snape was waving the door closed with his wand.

"Nice of you to join us, Miss Granger," he sneered. "However, lateness is not tolerated in my class. 10 points from Gryffindor."

"But I-"

"Sit."

Hermione made to go sit at her usual seat next to Harry and Ron, but Snape stopped her.

"Actually, I'd like you to sit here today, next to Mr. Zabini. His usual partner is… absent." Snape smirked.

Hermione fumed silently at the unfairness at it all as she sulked in her new seat.

"Granger," Blaise nodded in acknowledgement at her.

Hermione, who had never even gotten a glance in her direction before, looked at him in surprise.

"Blaise," she stated.

"Today you will be brewing Babbling Beverages. Ingredients can be found in the storage room. You will be testing your potions, so do not do things carelessly, _Mr. Weasley_." All eyes turned to Ron, who had fallen asleep and was drooling into his cauldron.

"Begin."

Hermione shot up and raced to the cabinet, gathering all the proper ingredients before heading back to her table, her arms full. She grabbed her silver knife and began chopping up the lacewing flies.

Blaise was leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head.

"You could _help_," Hermione said irritably.

He shrugged. "You seem to be doing all right without me."

She shot him a look. "Put these in and then stir ten times counterclockwise." She shoved the chopped flies at him and returned to cutting and slicing.

By the end, their potion was complete. With begrudging assistance from Blaise, they had been one of the first to finish. Hermione peered into the bubbling cauldron, studying the liquid carefully.

"Oh _no!_" she cried. "The book says by the end the potion should be a light periwinkle, but ours is more lavender!"

Blaise scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Who _cares?_ It's better than Finch-Fletchley's puce green over there," he nodded in the direction of a foul, sulfuric smell, emanating from Justin's table.

"Well, alright," Hermione said worriedly. "Alright, now we have to taste it…" she quickly produced two glasses and handed one to Blaise. She scooped the liquid into her cup and downed it quickly.

Hermione knew at once something went wrong. All the moisture evaporated from her throat, making her feel as though it were made of sandpaper. Blaise watched her with widened eyes as she gulped, trying to wet her mouth. She grabbed a flask that was sitting at Blaise's desk.

"That's not-" Blaise began, watching her drain the flask of its entire contents. "Water," he finished.

Hermione coughed and spluttered as her throat and mouth returned to their normal state. "What did you do?" she managed to choke out.

"I did everything you told me!" he argued.

She felt her sight start to go fuzzy. "What was in that drink?" she slurred.

"Firewhiskey." Hermione's head jolted up with a start. "What! I told you not to drink it. Stupid Mudblood," he muttered.

The class finally ended, and Hermione shot him a loathing glare before gathering her things and rushing out the door, her head pounding.


	5. Tired of Talking

**Authors note: Here's another chapter! It's pretty long, and probably my favorite one so far :D I've already got the next chapter written so if you want it up soon you better review ;) Hope you enjoy!**

Hermione stumbled her way back to her dormitory, her mind reeling. She registered vaguely in the back of her mind that she was probably piss drunk; it definitely wasn't only firewhiskey in that flask, she realized with a pang of annoyance at Blaise. Smuggling alcohol into class… she would take points off for that!

"Hippogriff," she hiccupped at the troll portrait guarding their door. He grunted gruffly and swung open to let her in. She barely made it to the couch before her legs gave out from underneath her.

She saw Malfoy's door swing open as he paraded out in his Quidditch uniform. He stopped short when he saw her sprawled on the couch, her eyes half closed.

"What's up with you, Granger?" he asked curiously, coming towards her to observe. He drew back quickly, sniffing. "Have you been _drinking_?" Hermione shook her head furiously, trying to speak, but her tongue seemed to weigh down her entire head and she struggled to keep it upright. "Granger, you reek of firewhiskey and… is that _vodka_?" he said incredulously, his eyes widening past the point of belief. "Holy shit, I never thought I'd ever see _you_ drunk!"

"Not… my fault…" Hermione gurgled. "Potion went wrong, made me thirsty. I drank something of Blaise's and… I am _so _going to get him when I'm sober!" she spluttered angrily, her head lolling and coming to rest on the back of the couch. She let out a loud breath and puffed out her cheeks.

Draco stifled back a laugh at the sight in front of her. He sat down, bringing her head forward so he could peer into her eyes, which were slightly dilated. "What potion did you take, exactly?"

"Babbling Beverage…" Hermione stared at Draco's hair, grasping a chunk of it in her hands. "Your hair is so _soft_," she said, delighted. She stroked his head a few times before he drew back.

"I can't tell if that's the potion talking or just you being drunk," he said, snickering.

Hermione's face twisted into a lazy grin. Draco's face was swimming in front of her slowly, she reached out a hand to grab his face. "Stop moving," she complained.

"I'm not moving." he removed her hand, which were pinching his cheeks.

"Yes, you are," she mumbled, her eyes unfocusing as three Draco's gave her an annoyed look in front of her.

"No, I'm not." he said, bemused.

"Yes you ARE!" she suddenly shouted, shoving him so he fell backwards onto the couch and began pummeling him, showering punches to his chest.

"OUCH! What the-" Malfoy was silenced by a blow to his cheek, "GET OFF ME!" he wrestled Hermione to the floor, her head landing on the carpet with a thunk. She wriggled against him, her face screwed up in concentration and she tried to release her wrists from his grasp. Finally she gave up, choosing instead to knee him in the groin.

With a gasp, Malfoy fell onto the floor next to her in pain, clutching his abdomen and shouting in pain. Hermione turned around and he shot her a look of purest hatred, consequently making Hermione collapse into a fit of giggles.

"What are you laughing at?" he groaned, both of them still laying flat on the floor.

"_This_," Hermione said, gesturing around her wildly. She turned so that she was facing him. "You're so beautiful," she sighed, reaching out to touch his face, missing entirely and landing a hand on his shoulder.

He chuckled. "I like it when you're drunk."

"It's the truth," she mumbled, her eyes half closed.

"Really," he turned to face her as well, his eyebrow raised. "So I'm not a filthy ferret?"

"Nope," she reached out to poke him on the nose, softly. Her hand traveled down to touch his cheek. "Your skin is so soft!" she exclaimed with wonder, stroking his cheek. She started laughing again, scooting closer to him.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she whispered. Her breath sent a shiver down his spine.

"Of course," he said softly.

"I love kissing you," she breathed.

His eyes widened in surprise. "Oh yeah?" he smirked.

"Yeah," she giggled. "Isn't that weird?"

"Well," he reasoned. "I am a good kisser."

"Yeah, you are," she admitted. "And you know what?"

"What?" he asked, amused.

"You look really good naked," she murmured, smiling up at him through her lashes.

He chuckled. "You're not so bad yourself, Granger."

"Thanks," she grinned. "And also," she added, drawing herself even closer to him. Draco felt himself involuntarily leaning towards her so that their noses were touching. "I really wanna kiss you. Right now…" she moved closer to him so that her lips brushed his. "Can I?" she asked shyly.

When was the last time a girl had asked permission to kiss him? Never. The question was ridiculous, but somehow coming from Hermione it was almost… endearing. He reached up and stroked her jaw, bringing her forward and kissing her slowly. He felt her sigh into his mouth and responded with much fervor, opening her lips slightly so that her tongue could dart into his mouth. He groaned, turning and positioning himself over her. Her hands fell back from his face and landed on the carpet, and she tilted her head as Draco moved down her jaw to settle in the crook of her neck, sucking and biting softly.

"Malfoy," she moaned, grasping his Quidditch robes and pulling him towards her so she could attack his mouth. Their lips sought each other's desperately, his tongue tickling hers as they fought for dominance. She could feel his erection against her thigh, and reached down to stroke him through his robes. He groaned against her lips and grasped her arm, placing it gently on the floor.

"Don't start anything you can't finish, Granger." he muttered between kisses, and she giggled underneath him.

"Who said I can't finish it?" she said in a sultry tone, her hands inching down his waist. He stopped her again, pinning her arms above her head and lacing their fingers together. He bit on her lip softly as she sighed in pleasure, squeezing his hands tightly. Suddenly, Draco felt himself being pushed off, and his eyes widened in surprise as Hermione pounced on him, so he was underneath her. She viciously assaulted his lips before moving down to kiss his chin, her thumb stroking his jaw. Moving lower and lower, she straddled him and bent to suck on his neck with enthusiasm, her fingers fumbling to strip him of his robe.

"Malfoy," she panted, kissing him on the mouth again urgently, "I want you." Desire overcame all of her other emotions as she buried her hands in his hair and invaded his lips again, grinding against him.

It would be so easy to just take her right now, Draco realized. He would win the 100 galleons and she probably wouldn't even remember anything in the morning, what with the effects of the potion and alcohol mixed into one. But an annoying voice in the back of his head told him not to take advantage of her. It wasn't right; he shouldn't win like this. So, Draco summoned all his strength and reached down to still Hermione's hands, which were currently trying to undo his belt. He pressed his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily.

"Granger," he panted. "Stop." She ignored him, pushing away his hands as she whipped his belt out of the loops. He grabbed her hands again. "Stop." he said firmly. "We shouldn't… do this." There was a pause as she stilled above him.

"Why not?" she asked, affronted.

"Because! You're drunk, and under the influence of a potion." he stated.

"So?" she grinned, leaning down and nipping at his neck.

"So… Oh, God," he groaned at the absurdity of the situation. Here he was, being pinned down and sexually assaulted by _Granger_, of all people. He might have actually been able to enjoy it had his bloody conscience not ruined it for him.

Malfoy didn't realize that Hermione had taken her shirt off until he felt her drag his hands to his waist. Yanking his hand away in surprise, he looked up at her, clad only in her uniform skirt and a red bra.

"Granger, you're _really _hot!"

She giggled. "Thanks," she said flirtatiously.

"No," he said, pushing her off of him and grabbing her hand, pulling both of them into an upright position. "You're _burning_." He pressed his hand against her forehead; she was a good 100 degrees.

"I feel fine," she argued, stepping towards him, her eyes half closed. He stepped back, thinking she was about to attack him again before realizing she was falling – _fainting_, was more like it. He grabbed her just as she was about to hit the floor, and hoisted her into his arms, bridal style.

"Shit," he muttered, making his way to her dormitory. He cleared his throat at the mermaid in the portrait guarding Hermione's room.

"Password?" the mermaid tinkled, brushing through her long hair.

"Uh…" Draco looked down at Hermione. "Hogwarts?"

The mermaid kept staring at him expectantly.

"Gryffindor? Books? O.W.L.S? Potter? Weasel? Library?"

After what felt like hours guessing the bloody password, Malfoy felt his arms start to get tired. Giving up, he turned around with a groan and made his way to his room. "Salazaar," he muttered irritably at the pointy faced warlock in the portrait, who nodded and swung open to admit entrance.

He unceremoniously dumped Hermione on a side of his bed, then made his way to the bathroom. He was incredibly tired, _and _he had Quidditch tomorrow –

Quidditch.

"Fuck!" he shouted. He had completely forgotten about Quidditch practice tonight, what with drunk Granger trying to seduce him and everything. They had a match against Hufflepuff the next afternoon and he knew that Madam Hooch would not be happy with him, at all. He splashed water onto his face, scrubbing roughly, and quickly brushed his teeth before returning to his room, slamming his bathroom door shut in frustration. He quickly looked to see if it had awoken Hermione, but she was still passed out on his bed. He paused, knowing he couldn't just let her stay in his bed half naked – she'd hex the life out of him the next morning – so he grabbed a t shirt from his dresser, hoping she wouldn't wake up while he was dressing her.

She stirred slightly as he slipped the shirt over her head, lifting her arms to bring them through the holes. However, she simply muttered something unintelligible and returned to her comatose state. He pulled the shirt over her stomach, the hem coming to rest slightly above her skirt.

He paused. Should he take that off too? The fabric wasn't exactly comfortable sleeping material… Shrugging, he pulled a pair of clean boxers off an armchair. He tried not to look as he tugged her skirt down her hips – not that it was anything he hadn't seen before, but he still felt guilty doing it without her knowing – but he saw a flash of red and looked up in surprise to see relatively modest but definitely _lacy _underwear. He swallowed, cursing himself for feeling turned on just from looking at her _underwear, _for god's sake; he was Draco Malfoy, not some inexperienced twelve year old! He hastily slipped the skirt off her legs and pulled his boxers up to rest snugly on her hips.

He stood up and admired her, sleeping soundly in _his _bed, wearing _his _black t shirt and silk boxers. Dressed silently so he wouldn't wake her, he crawled into bed next to her, turning off the lights and falling into a deep sleep.


	6. Distractions

**Author's Note:**

**Two chapters in one day! You guys are so lucky :) Have you noticed the chapters are getting longer? I've been stuck at home all day so I've basically been writing the whole time, and I've come up with some good ideas that I can't wait to use. And, I figured I might as well just upload this one as well. Thanks to the people reviewing, but also thanks to those who favorited this story/added it to your story alerts!**

**Review, review, review!**

Hermione woke up with a raging headache.

She opened her eyes, and froze, staring at the sleeping Draco Malfoy, who was inches from her face. Blinking slowly, she tried to look around without waking him up – the black furniture and elegant, steely décor told her that she was definitely not in her own room. Draco stirred underneath her and she blushed furiously, realizing that in her sleep, she had wrapped her arm around him and was currently snuggling him, her head resting on his pillow next to the crook of his neck. She could feel him breathing softly, his heart beating directly under her hand, and she shifted slightly, closing her eyes and hoping to go back to sleep.

However, her small movement must have jolted Draco awake, because she felt him stir underneath her and yawn. His muscles tensed suddenly – when he opened his eyes, Hermione guessed wryly – and she felt him move his hand, which was currently wrapped around Hermione's waist.

"Shit," she heard him whisper, and there was a rustle as he slowly turned towards her. She opened her eyes a fraction of a centimeter to find him staring at her, as though gouging whether he had woken her up or not. Slowly, he grasped her wrist and placed it gently on her side. Hermione almost jumped when she felt his hand grip her waist, turning her so that she was lying flat on her back. Then, he extricated his other hand from underneath her, and she felt the sheets wrinkle as he slowly got out of the bed and moved to the bathroom.

Hermione didn't dare to move until she heard the shower running. She contemplated just getting up and leaving; it would save lots of embarrassment on her part. However, she figured that would make things even more awkward when they finally did see each other, and decided against it. She groaned, stretching. What was she even doing here? She though back to the day before. She had made the potion with Blaise and drank his firewhiskey – she fumed inwardly about that particular incident – then went back to her dormitory and…

"Shit!" Hermione whispered, her eyes clenching shut. "Shit, shit, shit, shit. Oh, _no_."

And then Draco had found her, drunk and blubbering… and then they were on the floor, and then…

She grabbed a pillow and groaned loudly into it.

She had _threw _herself at him. She recalled practically begging him to bed her right then and there. Her humiliation rose as she remembered how he had refused her, _repeatedly_, but she wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Oh, god." she moaned in embarrassment, as the memories flooded her. Taking her shirt off, _trying _to take off his pants…

Wait a minute. But she was _wearing _a shirt. She looked down, and rubbed her fingers down the unfamiliar baggy black t shirt that was currently hiding her previously exposed body. Her hands reached down even further, stopping when she felt a thick elastic waistband – her skirt didn't have a waistband, it had a zipper… she froze.

Boxers. She was wearing Malfoy's _boxers_.

At that moment, she heard the water turn off, and the shower door open. Malfoy would be out any minute now, which meant she couldn't jump out and run to China, which she had seriously been considering. She decided to pretend to be asleep, turning herself on her side so that her back was facing the door and trying to stop her erratically beating heart from making the entire bed vibrate.

The door opened, and she felt steam hit her back. Footsteps thudded as Malfoy made his way to the dresser, which was on the side of the room facing her. She opened her eyes a sliver to see him clad in only a towel around his waist. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard the towel drop to the floor, and a rustle as he pulled on some clothes. Deeming it safe, she opened her eyes slightly again, to see him in trousers, but still shirtless.

She heard him come towards her, and felt his hand give her shoulder a light shake.

"Granger."

She stirred, not wanting to awaken right away and seem suspicious.

"Oi, Granger!"

Her eyes fluttered open, and she found herself staring straight into Malfoy's silver ones.

"What," she muttered sleepily, not sure what she was supposed to say.

There was a pause as they both stared at each other.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

She blushed a deep crimson. "Yes," she mumbled into her pillow.

"Still drunk?"

"No," she whispered, flushing.

"Still babbling?"

"No."

"Still want to jump my bones?"

"No." she muttered quietly.

"I guess that means you won't be taking off your clothes anymore, either." he sniggered.

Her eyes shot open to glare at him. "I was _drunk_, like you said!" she said defensively. "Like you haven't done anything humiliating while being piss drunk."

He stared at her thoughtfully. "I may have hit on the hag waitressing at the Hog's Head once, but you're definitely a worse drunk than me." He threw on his Quidditch robes. "Where's my broom?" he muttered to himself, looking around.

"Why do you need your broom? Shouldn't you be getting ready for class?"

"Shouldn't you be getting out of my bed?" he smirked.

"You put me here!" she said indignantly.

"Only because you drank yourself into a coma." he said flippantly.

"That was only because I was forced to work with _Blaise_, who enjoys smuggling highly alcoholic substances in class!" she argued.

Draco chuckled. "That's not my fault. Besides, it's Saturday." He paused in his search for his broomstick to look at her. "No class. The Quidditch game starts in an hour, if you're going… unless you'd rather just stay here and wait for me to finish." he winked.

She looked away, flustered. "I'm going," she informed him, getting to her feet. All her blood seemed to rush to her head, and she looked curiously at Draco, whose face was now speckled with large black dots. She felt herself falling, face first, onto the ground, but Draco launched forward and caught her before her head collided with the floor.

"Would you stop fainting?" he said, annoyed. She stuck her tongue out at him and made her way out the door.

"Wait," he called, and she turned. He grabbed her skirt off the floor and tossed it to her, smirking.

"Thanks," she said, flushing, before walking slowly back to her room.

She made her way down to the Great Hall after thirty minutes and joined up with Harry, Ron, and Ginny.

"Where have you been, Hermione?" Harry asked curiously. "We didn't see you at all yesterday."

"Uh…" she couldn't exactly tell them that she had been drunkenly trying to shag Malfoy. "I was at the library, studying. N.E.W.T.S are coming up, you know."

Ron rolled his eyes. "'Mione, you could get perfect scores on everything without even opening a book. Don't tell me you're gonna skip the Quidditch game, too?"

"No, I'm going!"

Ron nodded. "Good," he said before returning to his plate, piled high with pancakes.

"Hermione," Ginny said knowingly. "You smell like a _boy_."

Hermione looked at Ginny, offended. "What?"

"Not in a bad way! I mean," Ginny leaned in closer so that Harry and Ron couldn't hear. "You smell like someone else. Different."

If Ginny couldn't already tell by Draco's smell on her, then Hermione's blush surely gave it away.

Ginny gasped. "_That's _why you're never around anymore! Who is it?" she pressed.

"What are you guys going on about?" Ron called as he and Harry got up. "The game's about to start!"

Hermione got up as well, grateful for the distraction.

"Don't think you're going to get away with this," Ginny said mischievously. "I'll find out who it is!"

"Hey, Hermione!" Dean called as he made his way to the door.

"Dean!" Hermione grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the exit, away from Ginny's prying gaze.

* * *

><p>"So, how'd it go last night?" Blaise asked knowingly as he and Draco made their way to the Quidditch Pitch.<p>

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked nonchalantly.

"You and Granger. She was bloody _drunk_ when she left Potions," he sniggered. "You're welcome, by the way."

"For?"

"I may have bloody well handed you her virginity on a platter!" Blaise said indignantly. "It's not secret prudes like Granger can't handle their alcohol well."

Draco scoffed. "I don't need your assistance, mate. Besides, are you really that willing to throw away 100 galleons?"

Blaise shrugged. "I find this bet amusing."

"Well, we didn't shag."

"_What_?" Blaise yelled, turning to stare at Draco in outrage. "Why the bloody hell not?"

"_Because_, I like my women aware and functioning, not lying on the floor like a limp rag doll." Draco snapped. "And what about when the sexual assault charges come rolling in?"

Blaise's eyes widened. "You _like _her."

"_What_?"

"I can't believe this. You like the Mudblood!"

"No, I don't. I _like _not being a rapist."

"It's not like you've never shagged a drunken girl." Blaise argued.

"_I _was drunk too," Draco said defensively.

Blaise eyed him. "Fine," he said, giving up. "But I still don't see why you gave up on a perfectly good fuck. It's not every day a drunk virgin wanders into your arms." They arrived at the Slytherin locker rooms and dropped their equipment, grabbing their helmets and knee pads, heading out to the pitch.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Hooch called, her lips pursed into the thinnest line Draco had ever seen – it was practically invisible. "Come here, please."

"See you, mate." Blaise called as he headed toward where the rest of the team was gathered.

"Is something wrong?" Draco asked her.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure I've told you before that the practices before a match are very crucial and _mandatory_." she scolded.

"I know, I'm sorry about that, but there was an emergency! It won't happen again. Please," he pleaded, "let me play."

"Rules are rules, Mr. Malfoy. We've got Nott as a replacement Seeker for this game, and I hope to see you at _all _practices from now on." she peered down at him with her hawk eyes disapprovingly before moving to yell at a member on the Hufflepuff team.

Draco stood there, furious. He took off his helmet and threw it on the ground in anger, stalking back to where he had placed his bag and storming off the field. Just as he was walking back to the castle, he happened to glance up and see Hermione and Dean, chatting away. His mood worsened as he stalked to his dormitory.

* * *

><p>"What d'you reckon?" Harry asked, nodded towards Malfoy's retreating back. "Guess he's not playing this game."<p>

"Well, that's what he gets for skipping practice!" Ron said triumphantly. "Really, he's always acting like he's better than us and doesn't need training. Did everyone forget how in second year he fell on his ass?"

"He was twelve, Ronald." Hermione said distractedly. She should really go find him and apologize – after all, it was _her_ fault that he couldn't play.

"Are you _defending_ him?" Harry said incredulously.

"I'm just saying," she shrugged guiltily, getting up from her seat. "I have to use the loo. Be right back," she muttered to Dean as she made her way through the stands, running back to the castle.


	7. Attraction

The door to the Head dormitory swung open and Hermione entered cautiously. She saw Malfoy lying on the couch, his hands over his eyes; he turned to look at her when he heard the door close.

"Shouldn't you be at the game with _Dean_?" Draco spat, drawing out Dean's name like an expletive.

"I came to apologize!" Hermione said defensively.

"Well, apology accepted." he said sourly.

She blinked in surprise. "Really?"

He grunted in response.

"I'm _really_ sorry," she emphasized. "If I wasn't drunk-"

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes. "If I hadn't skipped Potions you wouldn't even have gotten drunk in the first place." He rolled himself into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes.

"I feel terrible," Hermione said guiltily. "You looked really angry at the pitch."

"Yeah, well, that's because I went through a _month_ of practices for nothing. But at least now Hufflepuff will get a little more time on the field – Nott's not nearly as good as I am." he said sulkily.

"How courteous of you." Hermione said before a knock on the door startled them both.

"Hermione! Are you in there?" a voice shouted from outside.

Hermione stood up and went to open the door. "_Dean_?" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, you said you were going to the look and then never came back! Well, nevermind that," he said breathlessly, "the game's just finished – Nott caught the snitch practically one minute into the game, fastest time ever, I reckon-" Hermione could practically hear Malfoy stiffen behind her. "and they're letting us go to Hogsmeade now. Remember, I asked you last week to go with me?" he reminded her as she gave him a blank look.

"Oh… _Oh_. Oh yeah, Dean, of course! Let me just get ready, and I'll be out in a minute."

"Sure thing," he said as she closed the door, turning around to get her things. Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. She quickly grabbed her purse and jacket and made her way out, smiling at Dean as they made their way outside.

They arrived at the Three Broomsticks fifteen minutes later, and joined up with Harry and Ron, who were animatedly discussing the Quidditch match.

"Lucky for Hufflepuff they got Nott as a Seeker, he's bloody brilliant – on the field I mean, off the field he's still a snarky Slytherin – caught it in a _second_, did you see that? Merlin, Harry, _you _haven't even caught one that fast-"

"Enough talking, Ron, save the daydreaming for when you're in your bed, will you?" Harry joked as Dean and Hermione sat down. "Where were you, Hermione? You disappeared right when the game started. Did you get a time turner or something again?"

"No, I just had to get something that I… left somewhere," she lied.

Harry raised his eyebrows but didn't question her any further. The door chimed as more people stepped in – seeing Ron's dark expression, Hermione turned to see who had entered the pub.

Draco walked inside, seemingly glued to Pansy by the mouth. She giggled as he made his way blindly to an empty booth, settling in before continuing their public snogging session. Hermione shot daggers at Pansy's back as she crawled onto Draco's lap.

"Disgusting," Ron muttered. "The ferret and the pug, what a bloody horrible combination." He chugged down his butterbeer. "Damn," he glared at the empty glass.

"Let's get out of here," Dean suggested. "We could head down to the Hog's Head – they don't care about age or anything like that," he winked. Harry and Ron wholeheartedly agreed, and Dean grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her up so they could leave.

Hermione shot a glance back at Malfoy's table, watching him continue suck face with Pansy, stopping only so she could tip his butterbeer into his mouth. Her face settled into a scowl as she walked outside, Draco finally looking up just as Hermione and Dean disappeared into the crowd, hand in hand.

The foursome gathered around the bar at the nearly empty Hog's Head, Ron still chattering on about Quidditch – something about the Chudley Cannons this time.

"Four firewhiskeys, please." Dean told the bartender, who nodded and procured four glasses immediately. He took one and handed it to Hermione, clinking his glass with hers. "Cheers," he said as he downed the drink.

Hermione eyed her glass, feeling queasy as she remembered the last time she'd drank.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked as he gulped down his glass.

"Nothing," she said, still clutching the drink. "I just don't think I should be drinking right now."

"Don't be silly," Ron said as he called for another round. "You've been so uptight lately – you just need to loosen up!"

Hermione looked apprehensively at her glass, deciding to just take a tiny sip. The liquid burned on its way down her throat. It wasn't unpleasant, she noted as she took another sip.

Soon, Hermione found herself amidst a collection of empty glasses and three raucous boys, who were yelling on about Crumple Horned Snorkacks.

"Luna showed me a picture, she did, when I told her they weren't real," Ron babbled, "and I looked at it, and it's a bloody UNICORN!" he shouted as Dean and Harry roared in laughter.

Hermione let out a tiny giggle herself, hiccupping slightly. She was beginning to regret all those shots of firewhiskey… she glanced out to window to see a darkening sky.

"We should go," she said loudly, tripping over her seat as she got to her feet. Dean grabbed her clumsily as he too got up, and the four of them finally left the pub, leaving a mess and a glaring waitress behind.

They managed to stumble back to their floor with little trouble, except for Harry accidentally stepping on Mrs. Norris – and separated at the corridor leading to the Gryffindor common room.

"I'll walk you back to your room, Hermione," Dean told her as they fumbled down the hallway. Hermione was practically being dragged by Dean down to her dormitory because her feet seemed to have stopped functioning.

"Griffahip," she shouted at the portrait, who jumped, startled. "No, griff – hippohip-" she hiccupped again. "Hippa – hippogriff," she finally spluttered and the portrait door swung open, narrowly missing her face.

She clambered inside, turning around to say goodnight to Dean.

"Thanks for walking me, Dean," she said, her voice fluctuating in pitch.

"No problem," he responded, drunkenly stumbling towards her to catch her face in his large hands. She stared at him with wide eyes as he brought her face to his, smashing his lips against hers. She could taste the alcohol on his breath and knew she should pull away, but instead she clumsily wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him into her room.

They staggered blindly to the couch, and she collapsed onto it while Dean crawled on top of her. She felt his hot breath all over her neck as he kissed her feverishly. Only pausing to pull his sweater off, Hermione kissed him back fervently, wrapping her legs around his waist. She felt his hands on her blouse as they undid the buttons one by one, and lifted herself up so he could throw it to the ground. His mouth attacked hers, biting at her bottom lip and making her moan. She felt his hands reach underneath her skirt to rub between her legs, making her gasp, and then he was reaching to pull off his belt –

"Wait!" she said, the sound of his zipper snapping her out of her drunken frenzy. "Dean, _stop-_ Stop it!" she shrieked as he ripped her skirt off of her. She remembered how Malfoy had done the same thing – somehow, it seemed much more romantic when it was him above her.

"Ouch, _Dean_, you're hurting me!" she panicked, struggling to get out from underneath him. She inadvertently grinded against him as she wrestled to get out, making him groan above her, pinning her shoulders down. "Please stop," she sobbed as he stroked her between her legs, his other hand coming up to grab her breast roughly. Hermione yelled at the pain, her clouded mind not knowing what to do.

"Stop, Dean, _stop it_, it hurts!" she screamed, trying to push him away, when suddenly she felt Dean being yanked from above her.

"Get off of her, you sick piece of shit!" she heart Malfoy shout as he rammed his fist into Dean's jaw. Hermione jumped up as she watched him stumble back, looking at Malfoy in fury before grabbing his wand from his pocket and casting a spell that went flying right at him. Malfoy had his wand out too, and deflected it easily and retaliated by sending a spell that made Dean fall, unconscious, onto the floor. He levitated his body into the air and brought him outside the portrait hole, dumping him in a heap on the floor.

Hermione scrambled to get her shirt back on as Draco returned to their dormitory, slamming the door shut.

"DAMN it, Hermione!" he shouted angrily at her, making her jump. "Didn't I tell you to stay away from that guy?" Hermione cowered under his blazing glare, her fuzzy brain registering that this was the first time he had ever used her first name.

"It's not his fault," Hermione said, tears running down her cheeks. "He was – drunk-"

"He was about to RAPE you!" Malfoy yelled. "He would've, if I hadn't stopped him!"

"It's _my_ fault," Hermione bit back a sob, remembering how stupid she'd been. "I let him … get me drunk, and come inside," her head was pounding thunderously and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Would you _stop _making excuses for him?" Draco bellowed. "If a guy can't respect you when he's drunk, he sure as _hell _doesn't deserve you when he's sober. What kind of sick fuck takes advantage of a drunk girl, anyway? It's _disgusting_-"

"Stop _yelling _at me!" Hermione screamed, clutching her head. "Just stop! I can't think, my head hurts-"

"Damn right you can't think, otherwise you wouldn't be half naked and sexually assaulted!" he shouted back.

"I'M SORRY!" she shrieked. "I'm _sorry_, Malfoy, that I'm not as responsible as _you_, and that I don't make the right decisions like _you _do, and that Dean doesn't respect girls like _you _happen to. I'm _sorry_, all right? I didn't _ask _for him to do this to me! I didn't _know_ this was gonna happen, so just stop bloody _yelling _at me, alright?" she sobbed, collapsing onto the couch. She could see a bruise begin to blossom at the top of her left breast, which only made her cry harder.

She felt the couch cushion sink as Malfoy sat down next to her silently.

"Are you okay?" he asked gruffly.

"Like you care."

"I _do _care."

"Why?" Hermione spat. "I'm just a Mudblood, _remember_? Why would you care if I got raped or not?"

"Because you're _not _just a Mudblood," he replied, grabbing her by the arm and turning her head so he could kiss her fiercely, his hands coming up to cup her face as he parted his lips. She felt his tongue lick her bottom lip before opening her mouth, lightly touching hers. Her hands came up to his chest to suddenly push him away, and he drew back, his back hitting the back of the couch.

They both stared at each other for a few seconds. Draco opened his mouth to say something when Hermione grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him so close that their heads banged against each other. She ignored the dull throbbing in her brain as her lips sought his; her mouth crashing against his as she turned to straddle him, settling herself into his lap as she grabbed him by his hair to draw him closer, every inch of their faces touching. His hands gripped her waist as she melted into his kiss, relishing in the taste and feel of him on her skin.

Slowly, they both pulled away, breathing heavily and staring at each other.

"I should go," he mumbled.

"Me too," she said, blushing, as she clambered off his lap. They both stood up and looked at each other awkwardly. Hesitantly, Hermione stood on the tips of her toes so she could kiss him one last time, her lips barely brushing his.

"Goodnight, Draco," she whispered, liking the way his name felt on her lips.

"Goodnight, Hermione." he smirked at her before retreating to his room, the door closing gently behind him. She smiled to herself as she slowly made her way to her own room. She crawled into her bed still dressed in her blouse, bra, and knickers, too tired and drunk to change. Squeezing her eyes shut, she repressed all memories of Dean and filled her head instead with images of a certain blonde Slytherin.


	8. Confusion

**Author's Note: I'm sorry that I haven't been publishing for the past few days! School has started for me so I've been settling into my dorm and everything :) Thanks again for all the story and favorite alerts, but if you want me to update sooner more reviews would be helpful! But thanks to all my reviewers, especially the ones who have been constantly reviewing - you know who you are :)**

**To Noodles2 who mentioned how Dean is always used as a predator - I noticed that too! Haha, that's actually partially why I chose him. Also, I just couldn't see Harry or Ron doing that to her, and most of the other characters are underdeveloped. Poor Dean!**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter xo**

Hermione woke up the next morning to the feel of her head being split open. Her brain was throbbing and her tongue felt as though it weighed a hundred pounds. Dragging herself out of bed, she lurched to the mirror and grimaced; she looked as though she hadn't showered or slept for days. She grabbed her spellbook, hoping there would be a potion or incantation that could stop the pounding in her head and erase the bags from her eyes. Finding the correct page, she grabbed her cauldron and the necessary ingredients and lugged them to the bathroom, where she lit a fire and began brewing. Fragmented memories of the night before began sifting their way through her mind, and she winced as she remembered what had happened with Dean. Somehow, though, she was more preoccupied with Malfoy; she couldn't help smiling like an idiot when she remembered their kiss.

"Bloody hell!" she heard Draco gasp as he entered the bathroom. He stared at her in disgust. "What are you smiling for, Granger? Does taking a big dump please you or something?" He plugged his nose with his fingers.

"Sod off, Malfoy." Hermione snapped. So they were back to last names now? "It's a potion to relieve headaches and soothe you and I've got a raging hangover, alright? Sorry if it overpowers your cologne."

"Cologne?" he repeated. "I don't wear cologne. Do you think I smell good, or something?" he smirked at her.

"Well," Hermione blushed. "You don't smell nearly as bad as this potion."

"I'll take that as a yes." he grinned.

The potion was beginning to clear, the sulfuric stench disappearing. Hermione grabbed a glass off the sink and ladled the mixture into it, filling the entire cup.

"Just to be sure," she informed Malfoy, who stared at her with his eyebrows raised. She eagerly gulped down the potion, which slid thickly down her throat like mud, making her cough.

"Don't tell me the famous Granger actually messed up a potion?" he sniggered as she spluttered and choked.

"Don't be silly," she managed to spit out. She could feel the potion starting to take effect – her headache was starting to clear and she felt much more energized.

"It worked!" she exclaimed happily, getting to her feet. "Now if you'll leave, I'm going to take a shower." She said pointedly to Draco, who was still staring at her from the door.

"What, I can't join you again?" he pouted.

"No way," Hermione replied, pushing him out of the doorway. "That was an accident, remember?"

"Sure it was!" she heard him shout as she slammed the door shut. Rolling her eyes, Hermione stepped into the shower and let the water run over her tense muscles, realizing that showering by herself was not nearly as much fun.

* * *

><p>"Where were you yesterday?" Blaise asked Draco as they settled into armchairs in the Slytherin common room. "We were supposed to play exploding snap with Pansy and Theo – Pansy was whining about you all night, says you're not paying attention to her and that you don't appreciate her anymore. Pain in the ass, she is." he muttered.<p>

"I was in my dormitory." Draco shrugged. "I had things to do."

"Like shag Granger?" Blaise raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"No," he replied, realizing that he had completely forgotten about the bet, yet again. "More like stop Thomas from shagging her." His face settled into a scowl as he remembered how that piece of scum was trying to force himself on her.

"_Thomas_?" Blaise said incredulously. "Merlin, I never made him out to be that kind of guy, what a git!"

"I know," Draco said angrily, glaring at the floor. "I come inside to see him practically on top of Hermione, and I had to practically drag him off of her. The bastard even tried to hex me – good thing he's lousy at dueling when he's drunk, it wasn't hard at all to knock him out."

Blaise was silent for a very long time, his eyes wide with disbelief. Draco looked at him, annoyed. "What's the matter with you?"

"What did you say?" Blaise asked, gaping.

"What?"

"What did you call her?" he said, staring at Draco with his eyebrows practically disappearing into his hair.

Draco froze. Shit.

"Granger," he answered coolly.

"No, you said _Hermione_."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did, mate! I _knew_ it, I knew there was something going on between you two!" Blaise practically shouted.

"Nothing is going on between us!" Draco said irritably. "Maybe I did say Hermione, but it was an accident!"

He could tell Blaise didn't believe a single word.

"Let me ask you something. How long has it been since your last fuck?"

"What?" Draco blinked in surprise. He thought back. Usually he had a good shag about every other day, but the last time he could remember was when Hermione had caught him with some girl – he didn't even remember her name. That was over two weeks ago. "What does that matter?"

"It _matters_," Blaise insisted. "Look, she's a Mudblood and friends with Potter. If your father found out about this," his voice lowered to a whisper, "or even worse, the Dark Lord – it could be serious."

Draco felt his blood run cold at the thought of his father and Voldemort. "No one's going to find out about anything," he hissed, "because _nothing _is happening. Granger means nothing, alright? Besides, you're the one that involved her in the bet in the first place!"

"Mate, if you were trying to win the bet you would have missed practice to fuck her, not to fucking take _care_ of her. You wouldn't be stopping Dean from shagging her; you'd be shagging her yourself!"

"I'm sorry that I don't treat women like shit," Draco snapped.

"That's the thing. You usually _do_," Blaise noted.

Draco ignored him and took out his homework, his quill pressing so hard against the parchment that it ripped through some parts. He could feel Blaise watching him the whole time.

An hour of silence passed before Draco collected his things and stood up to go to patrol duties.

"See you around," he muttered to Blaise before walking quickly out of the common room. He flew past the first few corridors, but slowed down when he heard two people talking quietly in a deserted corridor.

"I'm _really _sorry, I wasn't thinking – you know I'm not usually like that," a male voice pleaded. "Please, Hermione. Give me another chance. I would never hurt you."

Draco froze. His hands involuntarily curled into tight fists as he listened.

"I know, Dean." He heard Hermione sigh. "I know you didn't mean to do it, and I forgive you. But I can't just forget what happened-"

"I know you can't," Dean said eagerly. "So I was thinking I could take you out again. Definitely no alcohol this time, I promise. After class tomorrow? We could sneak out and go to Hogsmeade, I know a good ice cream parlor."

There was a long pause. "Alright," Draco heard Hermione agree. "Okay, that sounds good. I'll meet you in the Gryffindor common room at 7?"

"That sounds great," Dean said enthusiastically.

"I'll see you then, Dean." He heard footsteps, going in the other direction. Thinking it was safe, he hurried past the corridor, only to slam right into Hermione.

"I'm so sorry – Oh!" Hermione exclaimed as she saw Draco. "Sorry, Dra – Malfoy," she corrected.

"Granger," he said curtly. "Where are you coming from?"

"What?" she stared at him blankly. "Oh – I was just coming from the library, studying."

The lie made his face turn sour.

"Right," he nodded. "Well, I'll see you later." He made his way past her, his blood boiling. He couldn't believe she was actually going to see Dean again, after what he had done! There was no way he was going to let that happen. What if it happened again, only this time he wasn't there to stop it?

His thoughts were interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He whirled around, glaring at the fifth year Hufflepuff, who cowered underneath his blazing glare.

"What?" he snapped.

"Sorry – we're supposed to be patrolling together," she squeaked, her eyes wide as she stared at him adoringly.

"Right." He started walking quickly, and she struggled to catch up with him.

"So," she said breathlessly, "how come you weren't playing at the game yesterday? You're such a good Seeker!" she beamed at him.

"I had a conflict," he said without looking at her. "Helping a friend," he added after a pause.

"That's so _nice _of you!" the girl cooed.

"Sure."

She giggled to herself, and continued to badger him with insignificant questions for the better half of the hour.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked shyly after they had shooed away a couple that were snogging as though their life depended on it.

He paused. Did he? He wasn't sure if Pansy thought they were a thing – _he _definitely didn't think so. And then there was Hermione… but there was no bloody way he could ever be with her. He realized that fact sullenly, which surprised him. The prefect was still eyeing him curiously, wondering what his silence meant.

"No, I don't." he said, finally turning to stare at her. She was pretty, he realized – long brown hair that rested in slight curls on her back, wide chocolate eyes. Full lips that smiled at him when she realized he was inspecting her. She looked almost like – he shook his head clear at that thought. No, the only reason he wanted this girl was because he hadn't shagged a girl for a while, and she wasn't hideous.

"You're very pretty," he said, reaching to hook a curl behind her ear.

A smile broke out across her face. "Thank you," she said, blushing furiously. Gaining confidence from the compliment, she moved herself closer to him, sighing in delight as he lightly placed his hands on her waist.

"Are you a good kisser?" he whispered in her ear, feeling her shiver. Pulling back, he barely noticed her mouth open before his was on hers. She quickly caught on and attacked him, wrapping her arms around his neck and furiously snogging the life out of him so that he barely had to do anything at all. Within minutes, they had stumbled through his dormitory to his room, and she was writhing underneath him ecstatically as he slid into her.

She wasn't a virgin, but definitely wasn't experienced. She didn't seem to notice that his kisses were emotionless against her skin and moaned appreciatively as he thrusted into her roughly, focused only on his own pleasure. Her hands scratched at his back and she screamed as she came, which annoyed him thoroughly. Thankfully, he managed to come soon after she did, and he pulled himself off of her onto his bed, ignoring her as she curled into his side.

"I have something to do," he told her, suddenly getting out of his bed. He pulled on a pair of boxers. "You should go. I'll walk you," he added halfheartedly as he saw her crestfallen look. She pulled on her clothes and they walked out of his room. He opened the portrait door for her, and gave her a chaste kiss before she left, giggling. Sighing in relief, he closed the door on her, realizing that his mood had not improved in the slightest. He turned around to go back to his room, jumping in shock when he noticed Hermione sitting on the couch, quietly writing an essay.

"Bloody hell!" he gasped at her. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here." She replied coldly.

"Right," he said, suddenly uncomfortable under her unwavering glare. He realized that he probably should have put on some pants before coming out of his room.

"So what's her name?" Hermione asked, nodding her head in the direction of the door.

"Uh," he paused, thinking. He had never even gotten her name. "Hannah," he lied.

"I see." She was still watching him, and he wondered if she believed him. "Well, I'd like it if you would stop bringing girls in to mindlessly shag, alright?"

He stared at her. "What?"

"Stop fucking random girls in our room!" she yelled angrily, slamming down her quill.

There was a moment of silence as he registered what she said, taken aback by her coarse language. Guilt settled in his stomach, and he wasn't sure why. "We're not going out or anything, Granger." He said slowly. "It's not like I'm cheating on you or something."

She froze, looking down at her lap. "I never said we were going out," she said quietly.

"Okay," he agreed with unnecessary rudeness. "So you'll mind your own business and I'll fuck whoever I want."

"Does that include me?" she retorted. "Because I'd really like to know what you're playing at, Malfoy. You kiss me and act like you care one moment, and then you're a frigid bastard the next!"

He stiffened. "Sorry. I'll stick to being a frigid bastard, then."

"That's not what I want," she said, frustrated.

"What _do_ you want?" he shot at her. "Because I'm not sure I can give it to you."

"I want to know why you even _started_ this!" she shouted. "Why did you even kiss me that first time? I was fine just hating you, instead of-" She stopped suddenly, tears biting at the back of her eyes.

"I don't know why I did it," he said exasperatedly. "It was a mistake…"

"A mistake," Hermione repeated, laughing bitterly. "Right. So I'm just a mistake."

"I didn't-"

"I'm just a big FUCKING mistake in the perfect life of Draco Malfoy!" she screamed, humiliated that she was close to crying. Not giving him time to respond, she stormed past him, knocking him off balance as she pushed her way through the portrait hole. "And by the way," she whirled around to face him. "The girl's name was Florence."

Draco stood there as she disappeared, stunned, wondering if he had really heard a sob or if it was just his imagination.


	9. Stay with Me

The rain was beating down hard on Hermione as she stood next to the Quidditch pitch, a storm raging on around her. She couldn't tell if she was crying or if it was just raindrops falling from her chin.

Stupid Malfoy. She couldn't believe she was crying actual _tears _over that jerk. Or that she actually thought he could like her – she should've known that his pureblood prejudice would have prevented him from having any kind of feelings towards a lowly Mudblood like her. Damn him.

"Is someone out there?" she heard someone shout from the locker rooms. She ignored it, choosing instead to slide into a sitting position, getting mud all over her robes and into her shoes.

"_Granger?_" Hermione whipped her head around, expecting – or maybe hoping – for Malfoy to be there. Instead, she found herself staring at Blaise, who was peering out at her from the slanted roof protecting the Quidditch equipment.

"Hello, Blaise." Hermione called conversationally, as though it was perfectly normal for her to be sitting in a puddle of mud while a thunderstorm swept over the school.

"What the _hell _are you doing?" he shouted over the winds. "Are you bloody mental?"

She shrugged. "I guess I am," she said sullenly, turning her head back so that she could stare blankly at the empty field.

"You'd better get inside quick, you're going to get sick if you keep staying there!" he yelled.

"What do you care?" she snapped at him, glaring furiously at his blurred face.

"I'm a prefect and on watch, so if you die that'll be my fault," he replied irritably. "So why don't you come on over here for a while and then go back out when Nott takes my place?"

Hermione ignored him, instead focusing on how it felt as though she was being buried in dry ice.

"Bloody hell," she heard Blaise complain as he ventured unwillingly into the storm. The wind slapped at his face as he hurried towards her, grabbing her by her arm and dragging her towards the locker rooms, pushing her inside. The warmth of the building enveloped her, and she realized that she was shaking furiously. She collapsed onto the bench, feeling something hard pressing onto her back.

"You're sitting on Draco's helmet," Blaise informed her, pulling it out from behind her.

"Give that here," she grabbed it from his hands, his eyes widening in surprise. She strode to the door and flung the offending article into the nearest pile of mud, stomping on it for good measure. Blaise looked at her strangely as she calmly sat back down.

"So," he said slowly. "Why exactly were you trying to freeze to death?"

Hermione's eyes wandered to the mangled remains of the helmet, which was quickly disappearing into the thick mud.

The action did not go unnoticed by Blaise. "Malfoy," he stated.

She shot him a murderous look, remembering that he and Malfoy were best mates. "Don't tell him about this," she told him, starting to shiver again.

Blaise nodded. "What's going on between you two, anyways?" he asked curiously.

Her head shot up. "What do you mean?"

He raised an eyebrow. "_That's _what I mean. Every time I ask him about you, he avoids the question and just gives me a bunch of bollocks."

Hermione stared at him. "Why do you ask him about me?"

"Well I bet him-" he stopped abruptly. "Never mind," he said quickly.

"You bet him _what_?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowing.

They looked at each other for a long time, matching glare for glare.

"I bet him that he could shag you before the year ends," he finally admitted.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock and surprise for a split second, and then she collapsed into a fit of giggles.

Blaise watched her, taken aback. "You _are _mental," he said uneasily. "Maybe I should take you to Madam Pomfrey."

Hermione's laughter finally subsided and she righted herself. "Did you really bed Malfoy that he could shag me?" she asked, disbelievingly.

"Yes," Blaise replied, annoyed.

She watched him for any sign of lying. Determining that there wasn't one, she frowned. "That can't be right," she told him.

"Yes, because you would know better than me," he said sarcastically.

"But," she argued, "he's never tried anything with me. I mean, all he's ever done is rescue me from bad situations. We've never done anything more than kiss. I mean, other than the first time," she added with a blush.

"_What_?" Blaise asked, astounded. Hermione looked up to see his eyes the size of saucers. "He's kissed you?"

"Well," Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Yes."

"And that's it?"

"Yes…"

"He never tried to do anything more?"

"No. Actually, _I _did. But I was drunk!" she said quickly when Blaise's eyes widened even more. "I mean, I was piss drunk and I practically threw myself at him, but he refused-"

"He _refused_?" Blaise almost shouted.

"Would you _stop_?" Hermione shouted back. "Yes, he refused! That's what I'm saying, if he really did have that bet with you, why would he do all that?"

"He likes you!" Blaise yelled. "It's so obvious, isn't it? I mean, I had my suspicions but this just confirms it!"

"No, he doesn't!" Hermione said loudly. "If he did, he wouldn't be shagging some prefect while I'm right next door, would he?"

"He probably didn't know you were there!"

"Bollocks," Hermione argued, getting to her feet stiffly – her robes seem to have stuck to her skin. She became aware of how cold she really was, and couldn't stop from shaking.

Blaise stood up too. "Your lips are blue," he said worriedly. "I should take you to Madam Pomfrey."

"I'm fine," she insisted, brushing her hair out of her face; the strands had frozen into ice, and they scratched at her cheek.

"You're shaking," Blaise said nervously. "Don't die, Granger, come on, just wait until we get inside the castle-"

"Oh, how nice of you to be concerned," Hermione said, rolling her eyes with difficulty. Her teeth were chattering uncontrollably, and she fell weakly to the ground.

"Bloody hell," Blaise muttered.

"S-Shut – up," Hermione stuttered. "I'm j-just rest – resting."

"Like hell you are," she heard him say before she felt herself lifted into the air, his arms gripping her tightly as he carried her outside. The cold bit at her already frozen skin and she squeezed her eyes closed, gasping in pain. She could hear Blaise walking quickly, and soon enough warm air surrounded her as she recognized the familiar smell of the castle. She shivered, feeling like a human ice cube.

"What happened?" she heard someone approach Blaise and opened her eyes a sliver. Malfoy was walking next to Blaise, his face uncharacteristically full of concern.

"Saw her lying in a pool of mud out on the Quidditch pitch," she felt Blaise's chest vibrate as he spoke. "It was raining, so I took her inside – didn't want her to drop dead with only me around her, right? Anyways, I reckon she's got frostbite or something, she was convulsing the whole way and could barely stand up straight. I'm taking her to Madam Pomfrey."

"I'll take her."

Blaise stopped walking. "Alright," she heard him say in a funny voice. She felt Malfoy's chest pressing against her side as she was transferred from Blaise's arms to his. His arms carried her firmly against him, and she felt his heart beating through his shirt.

He walked silently to the hospital wing, only talking to softly murmur to Madam Pomfrey that Hermione had been out in the rain for too long and was freezing. She felt herself placed gently onto a comfortable bed, and a hand gently shook her eyes open.

"Hello, dear," Madam Pomfrey smiled at her. "Drink this, it'll warm you up – I'll go get some blankets, you're so cold!" Hermione fumbled for the glass and tipped the amber liquid back, feeling the warmth spreading through her chest. She stopped shivering and her skin wasn't tingling anymore.

Settling back into her bed, she only noticed Malfoy sitting in the chair next to her when she turned to place the glass back on the dresser. He was watching her unblinkingly.

"What are you doing here?" she asked sulkily.

"Just making sure you're alright," he shrugged.

Hermione scoffed, shifting so that she was no longer staring at him but at the ceiling. She wanted to mention something about the bet, but thought against it.

"What were you doing outside?"

"None of your business."

"Did Blaise say anything to you?"

She gave him a sideways look. "Nothing of interest."

He relaxed visibly at her response, obviously worried that Blaise had let slip about their bet. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier. With Fiona-"

"Florence," Hermione said, annoyed.

"Right, whatever. Anyways, I won't bring girls into our dormitory anymore, alright?"

"So you'll just find some deserted corridor then? For me? How thoughtful of you."

"Would you shut up?" he snapped. "I already said I was sorry."

"Do you even know what you're apologizing for?" she retorted.

"Do _you_?"

There was a moment of silence.

"No," Hermione said after a while. Draco smirked at her.

"I'm going to sleep," she told him, agitated, and turned onto her side. She was planning on just ignoring him for a while, but the potion had made her tired and she found herself falling quickly into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>Hermione woke up with a start to pitch blackness. It must've been midnight, or maybe later. She could feel the effects of the potion wearing off, causing her to shudder, despite the layers of blankets piled on top of her like a mountain. Turning to her side, she saw with surprise that Draco was still there, sleeping in his chair, his head slightly tilted to the left. Getting out of her bed slowly so she wouldn't wake him, she tiptoed to the bed next to her and yanked off the sheets, piling them onto hers. The cold tile bit at her toes and she was shivering with every step as she tried to get back under the covers.<p>

There was a loud crash as she accidentally knocked her glass off of her dresser. It shattered on the floor, making both Hermione and Draco jump, waking him up.

"What was that?" he hissed at her.

"S-sorry," she whispered, still shaking as she snuggled underneath the blankets.

"Are you okay?" he asked, noticing that her teeth were chattering again.

"I'm f-fine," she stuttered. "Just cold."

"Should I wake up Madam Pomfrey?"

"No." He watched her for a while before settling back into his seat, ready to go back to sleep.

"Draco?" she said quietly.

"Yeah," he murmured, his eyes still closed.

"Can you sleep with me?" she blushed at how it sounded, but was too tired to elaborate. She was freezing, and needed his body heat.

He opened his eyes, staring at her. "Sure," he agreed softly, getting up. She shifted to the side so that he could slip in next to her.

Hermione sighed in content as the warmth of his skin surrounded her, and pressed as much of herself against him as she could. "Much better," she breathed.

"You're really cold," he complained, shifting against her.

"That's why I need you." she mumbled, already beginning to fall asleep.

"That's the only reason?" she felt him smirk.

"One of them," she responded quietly, not sure if he had even heard her. And then she was falling asleep again, much more comfortable and warm with Draco next to her.


	10. Bubble, Bubble, Toil and Trouble

Hermione woke up the next morning in a familiar position – her arm wrapped around Draco, his hand around her waist. He was still asleep, just like the last time, and she took the time to study his face, noticing with a tug of jealousy that he was practically perfect in every way. At least, physically. She rubbed the blonde stubble running along his jaw with her fingers, staring at his long lashes. Her thumb brushed across his lips, which were slightly parted.

"That tickles."

Hermione yelped and promptly fell off of the bed, dragging the blankets down with her. She stumbled to her feet, gaping at Malfoy, who was smirking at her from the bed.

"You scared me!"

"I can tell," he snickered. "But to be fair, you scared me first. Touching me like that, I thought I was going to get raped or something-" he stopped abruptly, looking at her face. She stared back at him indifferently. "Anyways," he said hastily. "We should get back to our dorm. Class starts soon."

"_Class_!" Hermione shouted frantically. "Oh _no_, I completely forgot – I didn't even finish my essay for Snape!"

"What? You had at least fifteen inches when I saw you, and he only wanted ten!"

"Yes, but I didn't add my conclusion-"

"Who cares? You'll get the best grade anyways. An extra five inches usually does the job." Draco rolled his eyes at her panicked expression.

"Well, we'd better hurry – What?" she said, affronted, when Malfoy pulled a face as she walked by.

"Don't take this the wrong way – well, you probably will anyways – but you smell horrible." He told her, grinning.

"What-" Hermione sniffed her arm, which smelled like a mixture of dirt, rain, and sweat. "Oh bloody _hell_, I don't even have time to take a shower!" She grabbed Draco by his robes and smelled his chest. "_You _smell bad too, I guess it's cause we slept together, there's no way we can both shower and make it to class on time!"

Draco looked down at her, bemused. "You can shower first, I don't care, Potions is a bunch of bollocks anyways."

"Don't say that!" said Hermione, her eyes wide. "If you have any interest of getting a high paying job in the Ministry-" she stopped suddenly, realizing there was a very unlikely chance that Malfoy would be working for the Ministry, considering the fact that his parents were Death Eaters. "Not that you have to," she said quickly. "I mean there are other job options, or maybe you don't even need a job at all, you know, it's all up to you."

"Right." His expression was unreadable. "Let's get back to our dormitory."

"Okay," Hermione agreed, watching his face carefully.

They walked back to their room in silence, the quiet only broken when Hermione told the portrait the password. The door swung open and she clambered in first, Draco following behind her.

"Are you sure you don't mind me showering first?" she said tentatively.

"Go for it," he nodded before going to his room and shutting the door.

Hermione peeled off her dirty clothes and took a quick shower, making sure to scrub the dirt smell off of her body. She pulled on clean clothes, her hair still dripping, and shoved her door open, grabbing her bag before rushing out. Draco looked up as she scurried past, making her come to a halt.

"Do I still smell?" she said worriedly, smelling her hair and then her arm.

"No," he chuckled. "But you look like you just drowned."

"Well, I don't have time to dry my hair!" she defended, squeezing quickly through her hair so that water droplets splattered onto the rug.

"Are you a Squib or something? I mean, I just assumed being the smartest witch in our grade you'd know how to perform a simple Drying spell."

"Oh – oh yeah," she said, flustered, quickly muttering the spell. Her hair gave a loud pop, and she felt it being lifted off her shoulders. Her worst fear was confirmed when Draco burst out in laughter and she turned to face the mirror. Every single strand of her hair was sticking straight out, looking as though she had just been Stunned.

"Oh _no_," she wailed. "Look what you've done!"

"What did _I _do?" Draco asked, still laughing.

Hermione sank onto the couch sullenly. "I can't go to class looking like this," she said sadly.

"You went to class looking like that every day up to Fourth Year," he commented, earning himself a glare.

"Yes, you were kind enough to remind me of that repeatedly." she said pointedly.

They both looked away. "Right," he said awkwardly. "Well, you already missed the first ten minutes of class anyways."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" she cried, jumping up from her seat again. Her hair swayed above her.

"You were in the shower! What was I supposed to do, barge in on you naked? I didn't want to steal your moves." he smirked.

"Ha, ha," she laughed miserably as she sat back down. "This is terrible," she said, crestfallen. "I've _never _been late to class before, and the one time I am it has to be Snape's class. What am I supposed to do?"

"Just don't go," Draco said as though he were stating the obvious.

"And what, sit here with you for forty five minutes?"

"I'm gonna do something much better than sit," he said, getting up.

Hermione looked at him in alarm. "_What_?"

"Not _that_!" he said, horrified.

Hermione was beginning to seriously doubt that Malfoy had knowingly agreed to the bet with Blaise.

"I'm going to take a nice, long, _hot _bath in the prefect's bathroom." He clarified. "You're welcome to join me." He winked at her.

Hermione scoffed in disgust, but caught a glance of herself in the mirror again. "Well, I _do _need to get my hair back to normal." Was she actually going to do this? She summoned up all her courage to say the next few words. "Alright. Let's go."

He looked at her in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, I _really _need to get rid of this helmet." And it wouldn't be half bad to see him naked again.

He grinned. "Alright, then. Ladies first." he opened the portrait door, gesturing.

They hurried down the halls, careful not to be caught by any teachers who happened to be patrolling the halls. Except for a couple instances where Hermione stopped and berated some portraits for making fun of her hair, they quickly and silently made their way into the prefect's bathroom, the lock sliding safely shut behind them.

"Merlin, this is fun!" Hermione exclaimed. "I've never skipped class before, it's _exhilarating_!"

Malfoy couldn't help but laugh at her, with her big hair and wide eyes, a grin plastered to her face. "I never thought I'd ever hear you say those words."

"I never thought so either," she agreed. "Then again, I _never _thought I'd be skipping class to take a bath with you, yet here we are."

"Yeah, here we are." He smirked at her. "So, are you going to get in first or am I?"

"I am," said Hermione. "Turn around and close your eyes."

He scoffed, but did as she requested. She took off her clothes quickly and jumped into the giant pool, making sure to put in a lot of bubbles so that the water was clouded.

"I'm done," she informed him.

"When did you get so modest, Granger?" Malfoy smirked as he took off his shirt and pants, clad only in his boxers. "Turn around and close your eyes," he mocked, and she scowled at him but did the same. She only opened her eyes when she heard a gentle splash telling her he had entered the bath.

"So, are you going to get rid of the rat's nest?" he joked, gesturing to her wild hair.

She slowly sunk to the bottom of the pool in response, submerging herself completely. She sighed, air bubbles bursting from her lips. After a couple of seconds, she returned to the surface, breathing deeply.

"Is it back to normal?" she asked Draco, who was surveying her.

"Yeah," he grinned. "It is."

Hermione smiled contentedly and leaned back so that her neck hit the edge, staring up at the ceiling. "This is nice," she commented. She stared at him. They were both naked, in a giant bathtub, in a locked bathroom, during class when no one would be around to interrupt. It seemed like the perfect opportunity for him to win the bet with Blaise, yet he wasn't trying anything in the slightest. Did he even _want _to shag her?

"What are you looking at me like that for?" Hermione realized she'd been staring at him for almost two minutes.

"Nothing. Just thinking." Should she test him? See if she even had an ounce of sex appeal in her body? But what if he did end up wanting to shag her? She'd never done it before, and she wasn't sure if she wanted Malfoy to be her _first_. She definitely wanted to shag him, though, she confirmed as she studied his chiseled abs, subconsciously licking her lips. No, she decided, it wouldn't be bad at _all_ to have sex with Malfoy…

"Bloody hell, Granger, would you cut it out? You look mental!" Draco eyed her with a weird expression.

"How do you choose which girls to shag?" Hermione asked suddenly.

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. "_What_?"

"You know," Hermione blushed. "you've always got random girls who you pick for sex. How do you select them? Do you have a list of criteria they have to pass in order to get in your bed?"

Malfoy stared at her, baffled. "You're asking about my shagging technique?"

"Yes," said Hermione matter of factly.

"Uh," Draco ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. They have to be attractive."

"What defines attractive?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Blimey, what's with all the questions?" he asked irritably. "Attractive, like a pretty face and good body. And they can't be too talkative," he added as an afterthought. "Or stupid."

Hermione contemplated this information. "Can they be in Gryffindor?"

"Sure," Draco agreed with a smirk. "I don't discriminate when it comes to my sexual needs."

Hermione pulled a face at him. "It must be your charm that lures in all the ladies."

"Actually, I like to think it's my dashing appearance."

"Or your modesty," Hermione laughed. "So," she said, straightening up so that her chest was just under the bubbles. She didn't miss Draco's eyes wander down for a few seconds, which raised her confidence. Maybe he _did _want to shag her after all. "What about me? Do I meet your standards?"

He stared at her blankly. "You mean, would I shag you?"

She nodded. "Come on, humor me. Do I have a pretty face?" she was practically fishing for compliments now.

He studied her for a while, and she flushed under his gaze. "Yeah. You do." He laughed at the smug look on her face.

"Do I have a good body?"

"Better than good," he commented. Hermione blushed furiously, but couldn't stop smiling.

"Am I too talkative?"

"Yes," he said firmly. Hermione pouted. "But, I'm willing to overlook that." He smirked at her.

"And I'm not stupid," Hermione told him.

"Definitely not," Draco agreed.

"And you don't care that I'm a Gryffindor."

"No."

Hermione paused. "Or that I'm Muggleborn?" she asked quietly.

There was a long silence.

"I would have sex with you," Draco finally stated.

Hermione nodded, glad that he didn't answer her question – she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear his answer. Another moment of silence passed.

"So," he said teasingly. "What about me? Do I fit Hermione Granger's standards?"

"Of course you do," Hermione said simply. Draco raised an eyebrow but said nothing. They both jumped as the bell signaling the end of class rang throughout the halls outside.

"We should go," Draco said, standing up. The bubbles grazed his hips as he walked over to the edge of the bath, grabbing his towel before he got out of the water so that, unfortunately, he revealed nothing. Hermione hastily got out when his back was turned, quickly drying herself with her towel and then pulling on her school clothes, turning around to see that Malfoy had done the same. He opened the door for her and she got out first, only to find herself face to face with Pansy Parkinson.

"Granger," Pansy sneered. "Don't tell me _you _actually skipped class. Crying in the bathroom, were you?"

"Pansy!" Hermione shouted, panicked. She hoped Draco could hear her from inside. "Actually, I was just-" she stopped as she saw Pansy's pug eyes swivel from focusing on her to something directly behind her, her mouth dropping open in shock. Hermione turned around just in time to see Draco standing back up, straightening his tie. "Malfoy," she hissed. He looked up to see Pansy practically shaking in anger.

"Oh, shit."

**Author's Note:**

**Cliffhanger! Haha, sorry for that :) don't worry, I'm planning on updating later today so you won't have to wait long to find out what happens. Thanks for all the great reviews, they make me very, very happy!**


	11. Emotion Commotion

"What the FUCK is going on!" Pansy screeched, her hands curling into fists and steam shooting from her ears. "Do _not _tell me you were fucking this disgusting Mudblood _bitch-_"

"Hey!" Hermione shouted angrily, but was interrupted by Malfoy.

"Shut up, Pansy!" Draco yelled. "Just mind your own business, alright? I came to take a bath and Granger was already here!"

"So you took a bath _together_? I can't believe you CHEATED on me with HER, of all people-"

"_What_?" Draco said incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm not your boyfriend, Pansy, we broke up a long time ago. Hell, we weren't even technically together, we just shagged a couple times!"

"Is that what you're doing with _her_?" Pansy asked viciously, swinging out an arm to jab in Hermione's chest.

"Get off me!" Hermione snapped, pushing Pansy away from her.

"Nothing is going on between me and Hermione!" Draco said fiercely, pulling Pansy off of her. "_Or _me and you, for that matter."

"You and _Hermione_?" Pansy repeated venomously, her eyes narrowing to slits. She turned to face Hermione, stepping up close so that they were inches away from each other. "Stay away from him, you hear me? Draco deserves much better than pieces of shit like you, _Mudblood_."

"You know what, Pansy?" Hermione said softly. "You are a cold hearted bitch. Not to mention a shameless _slut_. So I honestly couldn't care less about what you think. And you know what else? I _pity _you, because it must suck to wake up looking like _that _everyday." Hermione stared at her face pointedly.

Pansy growled in anger and stepped back to bring her hand Hermione's cheek, making a loud, resounding smack echo in the corridor. Hermione gasped, her head snapped back, and she had barely reached up a hand to rub her face when Pansy lunged at her, restrained only by Draco, who had wrapped his hands around her waist and was yanking her back.

"Get out of here, Pansy." he spat, shoving her off of him. With one last withering glare, Pansy stalked down the hallway, knocking down a suit of armor in anger. "Are you okay?" he asked Hermione, whose cheek was bright red.

"I'm fine," she replied, watching Pansy turn the corner. "This is bad. She's going to tell everyone!" she tried to imagine Harry and Ron's reactions when they found out. She imagined it involved Malfoy getting beaten to a pulp.

Draco shrugged. "No one will believe her," he said dismissively. "I mean, we hate each other, right?"

"Right," said Hermione worriedly. "Well, we should get to class." She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "Aren't you coming?" she asked hesitantly.

"You go," he picked up his bag as well. "I forgot something in our room."

Hermione nodded and made her way to Charms, sliding into her seat just as the bell rang again.

"Where _were_ you earlier?" Ron hissed. "You've never missed class before, Harry and I thought you might've died!"

"Well, you spent lots of effort looking for me, I see." Hermione replied sarcastically.

"Where was Malfoy?" Harry asked her in a low voice. "Was he with you?"

Hermione froze. "No," she said slowly. "Why would you think that?"

"Well he wasn't in class either!"

"Harry, you aren't still going on about Malfoy being a Death Eater, are you?" Hermione sighed.

"It's possible-"

"Hermione," Ron interrupted. "What happened to your cheek? It's bright red!"

"Oh," Hermione said hastily, turning away from him. "It's nothing."

"Did Malfoy _hit _you? Bloody hell-" Ron's face twisted in rage as Harry's mouth dropped open.

"He didn't hit me!" Hermione shrieked as, at that moment, the door swung open and Malfoy walked inside. Harry was already halfway out of his seat, his hands formed into tight fists. Hermione grabbed Harry by his robes and yanked him down. Draco looked over at them curiously.

"Bee in your bonnet, Potter?" he drawled.

"More like a _ferret_," Harry said angrily.

"If we find out you hit Hermione, we'll bash your head in!" Ron shouted, getting up as well.

"_Really_," Hermione hissed, pulling both of them to their seat. Her entire face was red, making the angry burn from Pansy's slap less noticeable. "Would you stop making a scene, I _told _you he didn't hit me!"

Meanwhile, Malfoy looked that them in surprise. "I didn't hit her, you idiot," he snapped at Ron.

"Don't call me an idiot!" Ron shouted.

"SETTLE DOWN!" Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Malfoy all fell silent as Professor Flitwick's magnified voice roared over the classroom. "Thank you," he said pointedly. "Now, if you four are done, I would like to begin class. Today, we will be practicing Attraction Charms – most commonly used in verbal love spells, they can also be used to distract someone in a bad situation. Although," he squeaked, "this is not recommended. Now, I will be pairing every female up with a male and you will be practicing light charms on each other. Please listen as I call out your names."

Boys and girls started pairing off and practicing, and Hermione looked around to see many flirtatious smiles and giggles before the spell ended and they looked around, confused.

"Ron Weasley and Daphne Greengrass." Hermione noticed that Pansy and Blaise were suspiciously absent. Ron pulled a face and made to sit next to the Slytherin girl.

"Harry Potter and Tracey Davis." Harry begrudgingly moved his chair so that a pretty black haired girl could sit next to her.

"Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy."

"WHAT!" Ron shouted from across the room.

"Calm down, Ronald!" Hermione said irritably. "It's not like he's going to hit me in the middle of Charms class, is he?"

"I never hit you in the first place!" Malfoy said indignantly.

She went over to his desk and sat down next to him.

"We meet again," Draco smirked.

"So, are you going to perform the spell first or should I?" she asked, smiling slightly.

"You can go. I don't need a spell to make you attracted to me," he winked.

Hermione rolled her eyes in response, grabbing her wand and pointing it straight at his chest. "_Amorous_," she said clearly.

The effects didn't take place suddenly, but Hermione saw Draco's eyes slowly glaze over and he stared at her like a blind man seeing the light for the first time. His entire face was lit up, and an uncharacteristically wide smile was stretched across his face.

"Your eyes are brighter than the sun," he told her, his eyes full of wonder.

Hermione stared back at him for a moment before bursting out in laughter and falling off her chair.

"Miss Granger!" Professor Flitwick reprimanded sharply. Hermione pulled herself up off the ground and settled back in her seat, giggling slightly. Malfoy was staring back at her, a mixture of confusion and annoyance on his face.

"What happened?" he asked. "I don't remember a thing."

It only took another glance at Malfoy's scowl to send Hermione into peals of laughter again, taking another few minutes to calm down.

"Oh, Merlin," she said, wiping tears from her eyes. "That was ridiculous."

"What?" he complained. "Whatever I did, it was under that spell."

"You told me that my eyes were brighter than the sun!" Hermione giggled.

Draco's eyes widened. "That _is _ridiculous," he laughed. "Not that it isn't true," he added quickly, seeing Hermione's affronted expression. "Or… whatever. My turn." He hastily drew out his wand.

"_Amorous_," he said loudly.

He had barely finished the incantation when Hermione lunged for his chair, knocking them both backwards onto the floor. She grabbed him by the robes and smashed her lips onto his hungrily. He was just getting into it when she was pulled from on top of him, a horrified Harry holding her by her robes.

"Flitwick said _light _spells, you prat!" Ron shouted, also having made his way over to their table.

The spell was beginning to wear off, and Hermione's breathing returned to its regular pace.

"What happened?" she asked, confused.

"You attacked me," Draco informed her, bemused.

"You made her!" Harry said angrily.

"Oh sod off, Potter." Draco snapped.

"Oh shut up, all of you, it was the spell!" Hermione said, annoyed. "Go on," she urged, pushing Harry and Ron back to their respective desks. They shot her disgusted looks before returning to their partners.

"So, want to give it another go?" Draco chuckled from his seat.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "I think we've had enough."

"Didn't seem that way when you snogged the life out of me," he teased.

"It was the spell," she said defensively

The rest of class passed without incident, other than Flitwick coming over to supervise them, during which Draco pretended to be under the Attraction Charms and spent the entire time spitting out sappy romance lines and stroking Hermione's face.

Finally, five minutes before the bell was supposed to ring, Flitwick stopped the class and called their attention to the front.

"Now, you should all know that love and such emotions cannot be faked. The Attraction Charm brings out the minds inner thoughts about the specific person who casts the spell, and magnifies the emotions that are already there."

Hermione turned to see Harry and Ron gaping at her with horrified looks. She sank into her seat, mortified. Draco hardly had any kind of reaction to the spell compared to hers, and now everyone knew that she was attracted to him. Much more than he was to her.

"Of course, the spell also works accordingly to each person's personality. So if one is more emotional, the spell would have a stronger effect. For someone who doesn't show their emotions, it would have a more subtle effect."

The bell rang, making Hermione jump.

"Class dismissed!" Flitwick squeaked as chairs scraped back and students hurried out the door. Hermione felt herself being dragged out of her seat by Harry and Ron.

"You stay away from her!" Ron said accusingly, pointing a finger at Malfoy.

"I'll stay away from her, but I won't guarantee she'll stay away from me." Draco smirked, winking at Hermione, who blushed.

"Merlin, Hermione. You couldn't just bat your eyelashes at him, you had to go and snog him!" Ron said, exasperated, as they walked out of the classroom.

"You know 'Mione, always has to be on top of everything," Harry joked.

"It was a _spell_!" Hermione yelled at them. "I do _not _like Malfoy."

"But Flitwick said-"

"I know what he said," Hermione snapped, not wanting to think about what the professor had said.

"Hey, Hermione?" Hermione turned as someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Oh, hey, Dean." Hermione greeted.

"Hey," he smiled nervously. "So I'm just wondering if we're still on for tonight. Hogsmeade?"

"Oh," Hermione realized she had completely forgotten about her date with Dean. "Yeah, that sounds great." She said unenthusiastically.

"Alright, I'll meet you next to the suit of armor on the third floor." He smiled and walked away.

Hermione turned back to walk with Harry and Ron, suddenly dreading the coming night. She had forgiven Dean, but she just didn't know what they were supposed to talk about when the only experience they had ever really had together was one she was trying to forget.

The rest of the day passed by too quickly for Hermione's liking. Suddenly it was six thirty, and she was in her room wondering what she was supposed to wear for her night with Dean. Finally deciding on a plain grey sweater and jeans, she left the room and headed down the corridor. She found Dean leaning against the wall next to the suit of armor with the hidden entrance behind it.

"Hi," he said shyly. "You ready?"

"No, she's not."

Hermione turned to see Malfoy, his lips in a thin line as he stared at Dean coldly. Next to him was a sixth year Slytherin prefect, who was watching the scene in front of him with an amused look.

"Sneaking out of school, Thomas? That'll be twenty points from Gryffindor."

Dean's brow furrowed in anger. "Are you kidding me? You and your Slytherin cronies sneak out all the time."

"Yeah, well fortunately, we aren't dumb enough to get caught." Draco drawled. The prefect sniggered behind him.

"This is a bunch of bollocks," Dean muttered, glaring at him.

"Foul language. That's another ten points." Draco said lazily, leaning against the wall. "Now, are you going get your House into more trouble or just leave quietly? I'm kind of leaning towards the first option," he sneered.

"You prick-"

"Take another five points. I suggest you leave, Dean. I'm sure it won't be long before I'll see you molesting another girl, so until then." Draco waved his hands as though shooing Dean away.

Dean made a move as though he were about to punch Malfoy in the face, who barely flinched. However, he thought better of it and turned instead to Hermione. "I'm really sorry," he said apologetically. "For everything."

"Don't be," Hermione said. "It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" she waved as he sulkily headed back to the Gryffindor common room. She turned back to Malfoy, who had a very satisfied look on his face.

"What was that about?" she said angrily, although she was secretly relieved.

"Don't tell me you were really going to go out with that git," Draco said, his eyes narrowing. "You can keep patrolling," he said to the prefect, who scurried away down the hall.

"Whether I do or not is none of your business!" Hermione replied, folding her hands across her chest.

"Actually, I'm the Head Boy, so it _is _my business. And _you're_ the Head Girl, so you might want to think about setting a better example for your peers."

"Right, I should be more like you, then! Skipping class and not doing my homework because I'm too busy shagging everyone. Much better." she said sarcastically.

"I don't shag everyone!" he said, annoyed.

She rolled her eyes at him. "That's not important. Now, if you're done breaking up my plans, I would like to go back to my dormitory now."

"You could thank me, you know. You obviously didn't even want to hang out with that scumbag."

"Oh? Can you read minds now?"

"No, but that spell we did in Charms can." He grinned. Hermione felt a blush creeping up her neck. "So, you really are attracted to me, aren't you?"

"Yes, Draco, I secretly fantasize about running away to elope with you, where we have a giant castle in the countryside and all we do is shag like rabbits every day." she said sarcastically.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "That doesn't sound bad at all. Now, do you call me Draco in this fantasy too? Because I like the way it sounds when you say it."

Hermione found herself blushing furiously. "Would you stop? _Yes_, I do find you-" her face was surely bright red by now "-attractive. _Loads _of girls do. I don't need you to pester me about it."

"Wow, Granger, my ego is rising as we speak." He smiled cheekily at her.

"Really," she commented. "And here I was thinking it couldn't get any bigger."

"Yes, well I feel quite honored to be on the receiving side of your little crush-"

Hermione felt as though she could die of humiliation. "Oh, shut up." She muttered. "Obviously, the spell has a hard time differentiating between love and hate-"

"Right, because spells taught in Advanced Charms would have trouble doing what they are supposed to do," Draco responded sarcastically. "Besides, I don't know what you're going on about. I mean, I am apparently attracted to you as well, if I really did tell you your eyes were 'brighter than the sun'." he sniggered.

"Yeah, well judging by the fact that I attacked you and you merely uttered some cheesy comment I'd say that I'm a little worse off than you are," said Hermione as they reached the portrait. "Pumpkin pasties," she told the portrait, which swung open to reveal their common room.

"When can we change the password?" Malfoy complained. "'Pumpkin pasties', really, what are you going to choose next, 'steak and kidney pie'?"

"I'm sorry I can't spend hours finding the perfect phrase to use as a password, _Malfoy_, my sincerest apologies that they can't all be as good as 'Slytherin'. _Where _do you get your inspiration?" she asked in mock wonderment.

"I know where you get _yours_," he said pointedly. "Dinner."

"Ha, ha, lucky I got stuck with a Head Boy who's so-"

"Devilishly handsome?"

"I was going to say _not _humorous – what are you doing?" Hermione shouted as Draco suddenly produced a bottle of firewhiskey.

"It's Monday night, I've already done my homework, so I'm going to get drunk." He told her matter of factly.

"But alcohol isn't permitted on school grounds!" she cried, eyeing the bottle as though it were about to explode.

"Oh lighten up, it's not as though you haven't drank before." Draco said, annoyed, as he popped the cork.

"Not _knowingly_." she insisted.

"Well, are you going to start?" he patted the seat next to him. "Because I hate to drink alone."

**Author's Note:**

**Wow, this is my longest chapter yet and probably the most uneventful haha. Thanks again to all my reviewers, I got a lot just from the previous chapter! More drama is about to unfold in the next few chapters, and something big is going to happen - that's all I'm gonna say. Keep reading! :)**


	12. You're the One That I Want

**Author's Note: Here's a new chapter :) sorry if you've been getting emails that I'm updating chapters, I'm just going back and fixing grammar mistakes and stuff like that that were bothering me.**

One and a half bottles of firewhiskey later, Hermione found herself lying on the couch, her head in Malfoy's lap. She registered in the back of her mind that she was very, very drunk.

"You look much older from this angle," she said, giggling. "Kind of like your father."

She could feel him tense, and he smiled emotionlessly. "Let's hope not." He looked down at her. "You look different from this angle, too. Kind of like… a goblin." He snickered as she squealed in protest, reaching up to slap him. She ended up only squeezing his chin.

"What are you doing?" Draco laughed, pulling her arm down.

"I don't know." Hermione shrugged horizontally. "I'm drunk," she whispered before giggling furiously. "You're a bad influence!" Her hand came up again, pulling on his nose.

"Me! You're the one who demanded the second bottle." He waved the firewhiskey in her face as proof. Hermione stuck out her tongue so that she licked the bottom of the bottle.

"More." She commanded, grabbing her glass from the desk and holding it above her nose. She watched with a satisfied expression as the liquid filled her cup, and she sat up from her position so that she could gulp it all down. Her head returned to its previous location. Draco watched her with a weird expression as she sighed, feeling tingles spread throughout her body as the alcohol made its way through her system. She stared up at him from under her lashes. "If I asked you to do something, would you do it?"

"Not right now. Maybe when you're sober," he teased.

Hermione pouted. "But I was going to ask you to kiss me."

"Oh. Well, that I can do." He grinned as he tried to pull her head up, but she swatted it away.

"No! Kiss me right now, like this."

"Why?" Draco asked, bemused.

"_Because_," Hermione emphasized. "It's romantic. Just do it."

He shrugged, leaning down so that he was parallel to his knees, one hand holding her head and the other on her thigh. "Like this?" he whispered, his breath hot on her lips.

"Yes." Hermione had already closed her eyes, anticipating his next move.

Draco slowly closed the gap between their lips, his head perpendicular to hers as he pressed his mouth against hers. He felt her mouth open slightly as her hands reached up to pull his head closer to hers, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

"This feels nice," Hermione breathed between kisses.

"Yeah, it does." Draco agreed, his lips brushing against hers as he talked.

"You know what I've always wanted to do?" Hermione asked suddenly, pushing his head away from hers and standing up abruptly. She wavered slightly and spent a few moments regaining her balance.

"What?" Draco wished she would just go back to kissing him.

"Learn to ride a broom!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening as she smiled. "Let's go to the Quidditch pitch. You can teach me," she had already grabbed his hand and was pulling him towards the portrait door.

"Wait – what? It's like eleven o' clock!" he yelled as she shoved him through the portrait hole, clambering out after him.

"Who cares?" she said breathlessly, and Draco realized that he didn't. Not at all.

They crept through the castle silently, pausing every now and then to steal kisses from each other in the dark, Hermione struggling to keep her giggling quiet. They finally made it out one of the secret exits and reached the Quidditch pitch with the moon hanging directly overhead.

"Do you really want to do this?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow as he grabbed two brooms from the broom shed. Hermione nodded furiously, even though the thought of being so high up in the air was starting to make her feel sick. Not to mention all the firewhiskey she drank.

"Can we go on one together?" she asked, picking up a broom and stroking Draco's arm with it. He took it from her and straddled it, nodding. She walked over to him and got on behind him, gripping his waist tightly.

"Ready?" he whispered from in front of her.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, nodding against his back. She didn't know if he felt it or not, but he kicked off from the ground and she felt them being lifted up. Opening her eyes, she was horrified to discover that they were at least two hundred feet from the ground.

"Oh, Merlin." She hissed, wrapping her hands more tightly around Draco, burying her face in his back.

"Ouch," she heard him complain, but did not loosen her grip.

"This is much more terrible than I thought it would be." She informed him. "I may vomit."

"Go ahead, just not on me."

"Can we land soon? And when I say soon I actually mean now."

She heard Draco chuckle as they made a sharp turn, landing soundly on solid ground.

"That was fast," she said, blinking as she tried to see her surroundings.

"That's because we're not on the ground, we're on the seats around the pitch." She digested his words to find that they were indeed still a hundred feet in the air, wooden bleachers making their way up from her feet.

"Hmm," she said interestedly, and then proceeded to bend over and throw up all over Draco's shoes.

She straightened up, wiping her lips with her jacket, to see Draco staring at his shoes, a look of disgust on his face.

"Sorry," she said weakly, sitting down on the bleachers. Draco hurriedly took off his shoes, using as little of his hands as possible, and flung them over the side of the bleachers.

"Bloody hell," he muttered as he watched them land on the field. "I'm never wearing those again."

"Sorry about that," Hermione mumbled. "There's some on your pants, too." She pointed at the bottom of his trousers helpfully.

"Merlin!" Draco groaned as he hurriedly removed those too, so he was standing in front of her in only a shirt and boxers. Hermione giggled at his sour expression, clad only in a shirt and boxers.

"Here," she said, kicking off her shoes as well as she unzipped her jeans, yanking them off her feet. "Now, we're even."

He raised an eyebrow, smiling slowly. "You know, I think you got a little on my shirt, too…" he rubbed at an invisible fleck of vomit as he decidedly pulled it over his head, leaving him in only his boxers. He folded his arms over his chest. "Well?" he said pointedly.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him before standing up and slowly unbuttoning her sweater, letting it fall to the ground so that she was left only in her underwear.

"Happy?" she asked teasingly.

"Very much so," Draco replied, grinning as he walked towards her, placing his hands on her waist. Hermione sighed at the warmth, melting into his embrace and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"We probably shouldn't be doing this," she murmured as he kissed her ear, tracing the shell with his tongue.

"You're right," he agreed, moving on her cheek, his lips tickling her skin.

"We might get caught," Hermione breathed as his mouth dropped down to her jaw, kissing it softly.

"Wouldn't want that to happen," Draco responded as his lips trailed down to her neck, sucking softly on the sensitive skin above her collarbone.

"No, that wouldn't be… good…" Hermione sighed as he bit lightly on her neck. "That feels good, Draco." she breathed.

He pulled back from her, smirking, before coming close again, his nose touching hers.

"We are one hundred feet in the air on a set of bleachers and it is midnight on a Monday. I don't think anyone is going to find us," he told her matter of factly.

"You're right," she whispered after a pause. She smiled mischievously at him before pulling him in for a kiss, her lips attacking his hungrily, her tongue pushing its way into his mouth.

Draco responded fervently, grabbing her hips and lifting her up so that he could lay her down on the bleachers, pulling himself over on top of her. His hands brushed the side of her breasts as they kissed, making Hermione arch her back and moan softly. She moved her arms down his shoulders so that she could grab his back, pulling his body closer to hers so that every inch of them was touching.

"Draco," Hermione whispered, grinding against him. He groaned into her mouth, his teeth biting down softly on her lips. She pulled back slightly, breathing heavily. "You said you would have sex with me. Do it. I want you to."

Draco stilled above her. "What?"

"Please," Hermione breathed from underneath him. "It's what I want. I need you right now," she begged.

He had to take a moment to summon up all his willpower. "No," he said softly.

Hermione's eyes widened underneath him. What the hell was he doing? Was he an idiot? She was begging him to shag her and he refused – it must be the firewhiskey, Draco told himself.

"We shouldn't," he told her, breathing deeply. "I mean, here, outside in the bleachers. It's uncomfortable, and – you know, it's late." He finished lamely, wondering the whole time why they were not both naked by now.

"Then let's go back to our room," Hermione suggested, smiling as she traced a finger down his chest.

"Um," he panted, not being able to think with her touching him like that. "That's not a good idea. Look, you're drunk. You're going to regret it in the morning, trust me." Draco was one step from tearing both of their clothes off, but he knew he couldn't just take advantage of her. The thought made him sick.

"No, I'm not!" Hermione insisted. Her brow furrowed, and she pushed him off of her so that he fell onto the ground. "Am _I _going to regret it," she asked harshly, standing up. "Or _you_?"

"What?" Draco asked in surprise as he got to his feet.

"Of course, a _Malfoy _couldn't shag something as lowly as a Mudblood-"

"I already told you, I don't care about that!" he said angrily.

"No you didn't!" Hermione snapped. "I asked you, and you avoided the question. Luckily I found out the answer another way." Her cheeks burned with humiliation. "You're right, this is a bad idea. We should go back in the castle. Where are my clothes?" she muttered, frustrated, tears threatening to burst from her eyes. "_Lumos_." She grabbed her sweater from the floor, pulling it over her head roughly. "_Lumos maxima!_" she yelled, fumbling around for her shoes and jeans. They were nowhere to be found, and she eventually gave up search, turning to Malfoy, who was still in his boxers. "Let's go."

"Hermione, I-"

"Let's just go, alright?" she said loudly, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "We're both drunk, we don't know what we're doing – I just want to go to bed, okay?" Draco nodded, grabbing his sweater and pulling it on before getting on the broom. Hermione got on behind him, unwillingly bringing her arms around his waist as he kicked off from the bleachers. She could feel tears falling from her eyes, soaking into the back of Malfoy's shirt. When they finally landed, she pushed herself off and ran for the castle as fast as she could.

"HEY!"

A figure was hurrying towards them, and Hermione froze, panicking. "Hey, who's out there? It's past midnight, no one's allowed around except teachers and prefects-" Hermione's heart dropped as light was cast on Ron's face, his mouth falling open at the sight of her. "_Hermione_?" he gasped. "What are you doing out here? Without pants," he added awkwardly, gaping.

"Nothing, Ron," she said, sniffing slightly. "I was just going out for a walk."

"At midnight? On the Quidditch pitch?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes, now please, I really just want to go to bed," she told him, trying to make her way past him.

"'Mione, are you okay?" Ron asked worriedly, grabbing her arm. She avoided his eyes as he stared at her, seeing the obvious signs that she had been crying.

"I'm fine, Ron," she pleaded. "I'm just really tired."

He stared at her for a while longer before finally letting go.

"I'll walk you," he said firmly.

She nodded, already hurrying to the castle doors. She glanced behind her quickly as Ron caught up to her, noticing that the Quidditch pitch was empty – Draco was gone.


	13. Agitation & Confrontation

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry for the late update, I've been swamped with homework! But here's a new chapter :) I've got lots of things planned for the next few chapters so stay tuned!**

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ron asked as they arrived at their portrait door. He looked extremely uncomfortable, which made Hermione smile – Ron had never been someone who was good at handling emotions.

"_Yes_, Ron. Why wouldn't I be?" she asked dismissively.

"I dunno, 'Mione – I mean I found you at midnight out at the Quidditch pitch half dressed and crying."

"Don't worry about me, Ronald. I just couldn't sleep."

"So you took off your pants?"

Hermione sighed, turning to look at him. Ron's eyebrows were furrowed as he examined her worriedly. "I don't really want to talk about it right now. See you tomorrow?" She was already halfway through the portrait door as she spoke.

"We'll talk at breakfast, then!" Ron yelled as she closed the door in his face, bolting for her room in case Draco was anywhere near. "Crookshanks," she whispered at the portrait guarding her door, which swung open to admit entrance. Collapsing into her bed, she fell asleep instantly, glad to escape the embarrassment of being rejected by Malfoy yet again.

The next morning, Hermione awoke to a loud knock on her door.

"Hey, open up!" she heard Draco shout from the other side.

"Go away," she yelled, groaning into her pillow as she experienced the now familiar pangs of a hangover.

"Don't tell me you're going to waste my perfectly good sobriety potion-"

It took a while for Hermione to adjust to standing, but once she did she flung the door open, grabbing the glass in Draco's hand and downing it at once. "Thank you," she said grudgingly before slamming the door shut. She glared at him when she saw his hand shoot out to stop it from closing all the way. "What?"

"About yesterday-" he began.

"Can we please not talk about it?" Hermione interrupted, closing her eyes. "I think we can both confirm that I have a habit of throwing myself at you when I'm drunk. So, let's leave it at that."

"I was going to say sorry for ditching when the Weasel came, but this seems like a fine conversation as well." He smirked as she glowered at him. "Anyways, I can't say I really blame you. I'm really quite irresistible, you see. And very good looking," he added thoughtfully.

"You're an egotistical prat is what you are. You're lucky some girls are willing to overlook you're personality because you're so attractive."

"I'm attractive?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows as he grinned at Hermione.

She scowled at him. "Like you didn't know," she snapped, effectively slamming the door shut this time.

Hermione dressed slowly, not looking forward to going to breakfast and being interrogated by Ron. He had a big mouth, and had probably told Harry, and Ginny, and maybe even the whole Gryffindor common room by now. She walked to the Great Hall at a lazy pace, and slid in next to Ron just as he was gorging on pancakes.

"Er-My-Nee," Ron gurgled as she turned to get some sausages. "We need to talk."

"Close your mouth, Ron." She rolled her eyes and ignored his unwavering stare as she chewed her food.

"What happened last night, Hermione?" Harry asked from across the table, concerned. "Ron said he found you on the Quidditch pitch at midnight, crying."

"Without pants," Ginny added as she sat down next to Harry, giving him a peck on the lips before piling her plate with food.

"Merlin, Ron, is there anyone you _haven't _told?" Hermione asked irritably. Ron shrugged, swallowing noisily.

"It's not exactly a typical situation," he told her accusingly. "Are you going to tell us what you were doing out there or not?" He was interrupted when Professor McGonagall got up to the podium in front of the tables and cleared her throat, Filch behind her. Everyone grew silent.

"Our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has kindly informed me that there have been some clothing picked up last night. Apparently, two pairs of pants and one pair of shoes were found on one of the Quidditch bleachers this morning. Whoever these belong to, please pick them up immediately. The owners will be receiving detentions for going out past curfew and-" she paused as the students snickered, "illicit behavior. Thank you," she stepped down, looking sternly at them.

Hermione sank into her seat, trying to avoid Harry, Ron, and Ginny's wide eyes.

"_Two _pairs of pants?" Harry repeated. "Hermione… who else was with you?"

Hermione chanced a glance at the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was in a heated discussion with Blaise. His eyes found hers for a second before he returned to his conversation, smiling slightly. Three heads turned to crane in the direction she looked before turning back to her.

"Oh my God, you were with a _boy_!" Ginny exclaimed, her voice low so no one else could hear.

"What?" Ron asked, astounded. "No, no. Hermione with a boy-"

"_Thanks_, Ronald," Hermione interrupted, annoyed.

"Was it Dean?" Harry asked curiously. "You two seemed to be getting along."

"No," Hermione grimaced involuntarily. "I was alone," she insisted. Harry and Ron looked at her doubtfully, while Ginny looked as though she were about to explode with excitement at any second.

"And you wore two pairs of pants?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"It was cold!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. You couldn't fit in those," Harry nodded towards Filch, who was walking past them with the offending articles. Malfoy's pants were draped across his arm.

"Definitely not," Ginny agreed, looking at Hermione with big eyes. "Those belong to a _guy_."

"And they look bloody expensive, too!" Ron added as they watched Filch shuffle out of the Great Hall. Glancing again at the Slytherin table, Hermione saw Draco also watching the caretaker leave with his pants. Taking one last swig of her pumpkin juice, she stood up.

"I'm going to the library," she announced before quickly dashing towards the exit.

* * *

><p>"Aren't those <em>your <em>pants?" Blaise hissed to Draco as Professor McGonagall walked to the podium, Filch trailing behind her holding the pile of clothes left at the Quidditch pitch last night.

"What are you talking about?" Draco whispered.

"Those _are _your pants! I know they are, no one else has trousers that ridiculously expensive looking-"

"-found on one of the Quidditch bleachers this morning," Professor McGonagall was saying at the head of the room.

"_Quidditch bleachers_?" Blaise repeated. "What did you _do_? Or should I say," he added mischievously, "_who _did you do? Was it Granger?"

"Piss off, Blaise. Those aren't mine."

"Yes, they are."

"No," Draco said firmly. His eyes wandered over to the Gryffindor table, where he saw Hermione looking at him. He couldn't help the smirk pulling at his lips as he turned back to Blaise, who was watching him closely.

"It _was _Granger! It has to be, no one else has a sweater that frumpy-"

"You can't even _see _the sweater."

Blaise ignored him. "Well?" he prompted. "Did you shag her?"

"No."

"Why the fuck _not_?"

He saw across the room that a very flustered Hermione had gotten up and was currently walking out of the Great Hall.

"I'll see you later," Draco said to Blaise. He was already out of his seat, following her out the door.

"Fuck you!" Blaise shouted at his retreating back.

* * *

><p>Hermione was walking briskly towards the library when a hand reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into the nearest corridor.<p>

"What the-" she stopped, finding herself an inch away from Draco's face. "What are you doing?" she wrenched her hand out of his grip and tried to leave, only to be pulled back. This time, his grip was tighter.

"I need my pants back, Granger." He looked at her expectantly.

She stared at him. "And what do you want _me _to do about it? You heard McGonagall, we'll get in serious trouble if we tell her those are our clothes."

"_We _won't tell her anything. Just tell her they're yours, you're Head Girl, she won't give you detention."

"_You're _Head Boy," Hermione snapped. "It's the same thing."

"Yes, well surprisingly enough, it would cause just _some _damage to my reputation to go up and just claim a pair of vomit stained pants. Which, by the way, were quite expensive."

"Right, and it would do nothing to _my _reputation, walking up and taking not only my clothes but a guy's pants?"

Draco stared at her blankly.

"Or," Hermione said angrily, "do you think it would _help _my reputation? Collecting somebody's clothes like some kind of slag? Be a level up from a filthy Mudblood, I suppose-"

"What are you _talking _about?" Draco interrupted, annoyed.

"Nothing," Hermione snapped, wriggling her way out of his grip again. "Why don't you get _Pansy _to do it, I'm sure she wouldn't mind, she's enough of a slut as it is, and you seem to be more than a little close with her."

"I'm not exactly on speaking terms with her right now. In case you forgot, she grew less fond of me when I stopped her from strangling you."

"Whatever," Hermione replied, turning to leave again.

"Hey!" Draco stepped in front of her, blocking her way. "What's up your arse, anyways?"

"Nothing," she repeated irritably. "Would you move, please? I'm late to Transfiguration." She pushed her way past him and practically ran to Transfiguration, falling into the closest open seat.

"Granger," a voice drawled next to her. Hermione jumped. Did Malfoy seriously get here before she did?

"Would you just leave – Oh!" Hermione said in surprise, staring not at the pale, pointed face of Draco as she had expected. "Blaise." Her cheeks reddened.

He raised an eyebrow. "Who were you expecting?"

"No one," she muttered as Draco walked through the door, stopping in surprise when he saw her in his usual seat.

"Draco," Blaise greeted. "The Mudblood was just leaving," he said pointedly, looking at Hermione.

"I thought I told you to stop using that word," Draco said agitatedly. "Never mind, I'll get another seat."

Hermione blinked in surprise as Draco walked briskly towards the back, seating himself next to Neville, who was practically quivering under his glare.

"What's going on between you and Draco?" Blaise asked in a low voice as Professor McGonagall stepped forward to begin the class. Hermione chose to ignore him.

"Did you make up all that nonsense about the bet between you two?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence as they began transfiguring their feathers into birds.

"Why would I?" he asked, looking up at her while his feather wriggled and squawked.

She shrugged. "From my experience, it just doesn't seem likely."

Blaise stared at her for a while. "It _was _your clothes that McGonagall was going on about, wasn't it? And his?"

Hermione blushed furiously, effectively answering that question.

"Bloody hell," Blaise murmured. "Draco tells me every disgusting detail about every girl he's ever been with whether I want to hear it or not, yet whenever it's something involving you I have to pry it out of him. Fucking ridiculous."

Hermione went through the rest of her day thinking about Blaise's words, not sure what they meant, but they proved to be an excellent distraction from thinking about Draco all the time, which she tended to do lately. A lot. She entered the common room distractedly, walking straight into the Slytherin and sending them both tumbling to the floor.

"Oi!" he yelled from underneath her. She rolled over off of him and he sat up, rubbing his head. "Watch where you're going, will you?"

"Watch where _you're _going," Hermione replied grumpily as she righted herself.

"That was clever, Granger. Where do you come up with these gems?"

She glowered at him as he stood up, brushing invisible dirt off of his uniform.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're still upset that I didn't shag you senseless yesterday."

Her glare increased, if possible. "I am _not _upset over that. Actually, I want to thank you for stopping my first time to be with someone as _foul_ as you."

"You're quite welcome," Draco said, his eyes narrowing. "Not that it took much effort on my part. I mean, aside from stopping you from ripping my clothes off."

"I was _drunk_!" Hermione shouted, not sure what exactly they were arguing about. "I wasn't thinking clearly, obviously-"

"What's _obvious_ is that every time you get even a sip of alcohol you think it's appropriate to fling yourself at me. I'm afraid I have a little more self dignity than to let myself be the victim of your drunk sexual needs." he replied coldly.

"And were _you _drunk the first time you kissed me?" Hermione retorted. "No, you weren't. It's not like I'm running around sober trying to give you a wank, am I? That's the difference between you and me, _Malfoy_."

He took a step closer to her. "Right, because you were drunk when you practically attacked me in the shower. I'm sorry, the water must have washed away the alcohol on your breath."

Hermione took a step back, feeling her back hit the wall. "Maybe I was," she said defensively.

Draco closed the space between them. "Are you drunk now?" he asked in a low voice, his breath hot on her lips.

"No," she said defiantly.

"Neither am I." And then his lips were on hers in the most heartbreakingly slow kiss she'd ever had, his hands gripping her waist firmly as her arms snaked around his neck. He pulled back after a few seconds, his eyes tinted silver. Hermione quickly dropped her arms to her side, not breaking eye contact with him. She had just leaned forward, eager for more, when his hands let go of her and he turned, walking to his room, leaving her breathlessly watching his retreating back.


	14. Change

**Author's Note: I'm so so sorry for the late updates! I literally have had no time for anything other than school and homework this past week so this story has gotten a little slow. It's the weekend though, so I'm working on getting a few more chapters out for you guys :) Thank you for all the reviews and alerts! They mean a lot to me.**

**This chapter is starting to develop another plot, which I just added, so I probably will change the summary for this story soon to fit it better. The big thing I was talking about earlier will happen soon... so keep reading! Enjoy :)**

"Hermione, you've _got _to tell me who it is."

"I told you, Ginny, there isn't anyone!"

"I know there is! I can tell. Just tell me before I burst!"

"No."

"_Yes_." Ginny said firmly.

They were walking to lunch, and the fiery redhead who happened to be one of Hermione's best friends had been interrogating her for the better half of an hour. _Curse free periods_, Hermione thought bitterly.

"It's not Dean – it's not Ron, or Harry, obviously, there would be some problems if it was – I'm crossing Seamus and Neville off the list, Seamus cause he's with Hannah and Neville… well, he's just Neville," Ginny shrugged. "Can't really see him losing his pants, can you? So it must be someone from another House, then, or different _year_ – blimey, Hermione, don't tell me you're going for a sixth year? Or _fifth_?"

"No!" Hermione yelled. "No, Ginny, it was _not _a sixth or fifth year, that's ridiculous-"

"So there is someone, then," Ginny noted mischievously. "I _knew _it, I _knew _there was-"

"_Yes_," Hermione hissed. "_Yes_, alright? Someone was with me, now _please_, keep your voice down-" she was cut off midsentence when she collided into someone, losing her balance and almost falling when she felt someone firmly grab her arm.

"Watch where you're going, Mudblood." Draco sneered, letting go of her abruptly as though he were burned.

"Fuck off, Malfoy." Ginny snapped, helping Hermione collect her books, which were scattered across the floor.

"Shut up, Weaslette. No one asked you."

"No one asked _you_ to be such a loathsome prat."

"No one asked you to be _born_." He spat. "Stupid blood traitor," he muttered before turning on his heels and striding away from them, barely sparing Hermione a second glance.

"God, he's such a prick." Ginny said angrily. "I swear, why ninety percent of the Hogwarts female population wants to shag him I've yet to find out." She looked quickly over her shoulder. "Actually, he has got a nice arse… and face. And abs that looked like they were carved out of stone. Honestly," she said irritably, "why would someone waste such a beautiful body on _him_? It's a shame, don't you think?"  
>Hermione mumbled something unintelligible.<p>

"Anyways," Ginny said, ignoring her. "I've whittled down my list of suspects to a short few. Michael Corner – he's quite good looking, and a prefect-" she was cut short when, again, Hermione was thrown to the ground as someone ran into her.

"Bloody hell," Hermione hissed, rubbing her head. She looked up, scowling.

"Don't look so happy to see me, Granger." Blaise greeted as he stretched out a hand to help pull her up. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," Hermione muttered.

"Too bad," he nodded. "Well, I'm off to wash my hands of your filth," he added almost teasingly as he sidestepped her and walked down the corridor.

"That git." Hermione got up for the second time, brushing dirt off of her robes before glancing at Ginny, who was staring at her in horror.

"It's _Blaise_? Your secret boyfriend is _Blaise Zabini_?" Ginny almost shouted.

"What?" Hermione yelled in surprise. "_No-_"

"Hermione, don't you see? He's a _Death Eater_! If not now, he will be soon, his father was, and Merlin, _what were you thinking_?" Ginny shrieked. "If Harry and Ron find out – no, they can_not _find out about this. Didn't you hear Harry? He thinks You-Know-Who is planning to recruit more Death Eaters during winter break. Blaise, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott – the whole lot of them! Kingsley heard it from Lupin, and told Harry-"

"Ginny, I-"

"And you're Muggleborn, this is so _dangerous_, what if You-Know-Who finds out? He'll kill you!" Ginny looked as though she were about to burst into tears.

"_Stop_," Hermione said firmly, not comprehending anything Ginny had just said. "Just stop. It's _not _Blaise! Relax."

Ginny's eyes were troubled. "You promise? Promise me it's not a Slytherin."

"I promise," Hermione said, shifting her hand so that her sleeve hid it from view. Guiltily, she crossed her pointer and middle finger.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ginny looped her arm around Hermione's and they walked through the Great Hall. "Bloody hell, you gave me a right scare."

Hermione laughed nervously. "You didn't really think it'd be _Blaise_, did you?"

"Why else would he help you up?" Ginny shrugged. "That's still quite suspicious."

"I don't know, maybe because not every Slytherin is as big a prick as Malfoy?"

"Well, I _did _hear Malfoy has a pretty big-"

"_Ginny_!" Hermione gasped, turning bright red. Ginny giggled next to her as they sat down across from Harry and Ron, who were having a heated conversation in low voices.

"What's the matter?" Hermione frowned.

They stopped whispering, looking at each other before turning to Hermione and Ginny.

"Voldemort's been spotted," Harry said quietly.

Her steak and kidney pie seemed to have lodged in her throat. "What?" she spluttered. "But I thought you said he was in hiding – after what happened at the Ministry."

"It's Snape. He told Dumbledore that Voldemort summoned them – all the Death Eaters – he didn't say where, though. Conveniently left that part out," Ron added bitterly.

"But he wouldn't dare come to Hogwarts, it's impenetrable."

"Yeah. We reckon that's why he summoned them – to find some way into the school," Ron replied solemnly.

"To Harry," Ginny added, her brows pulled together.

There was a long pause as the four friends stared at each other.

"I have to go," Harry said seriously. "I have to go look for Horcruxes, it's the only way to stop him."

Hermione nodded. "When should we leave? Winter break is coming up-" she was stopped short as Harry and Ron exchanged a look.

"Hermione…" Harry began. "Ron and I decided that it's best if – if you don't come with us." He stared down at his napkin as he spoke.

Her mouth dropped open. "_What_? No, we decided last year! We agreed that we'd all go together-"

"It's too dangerous, 'Mione!" Ron interrupted. "We need to know that you'll be safe, and you're Muggleborn, you'll be on the top of their list."

"No, _no_. I'm going with you. Don't be ridiculous, you two, you can't just go without me!" she argued, angry tears making their way to her eyes.

"We've already worked it out with McGonagall," Harry said in a low voice. "Me and Ron, we're leaving a few days after winter break starts, so in about-"

"Five days," Hermione finished. "Winter break is in three days, and you're telling me this now? What if I refuse to stay?" she asked fiercely.

"You're not going." Ron said in an unusually firm voice. "We're making sure of that. The _Order _is making sure of that. We've already talked to McGonagall and Tonks is staying in Hogsmeade to make sure you don't do anything stupid. You're Head Girl. You need to stay. We'll owl you."

"You'll owl me," Hermione repeated. "You'll _owl_ me? What am I, some unwanted distant relative?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "It's just not safe, if all three of us are missing Voldemort's bound to suspect something. We won't be gone long," he promised.

"We've had this conversation plenty of times before!" Hermione was almost shouting now, but she was too furious to care. "How many times have we discussed this? We're in this _together_, or is that only true within these castle walls? You need my help, and this is just a _terrible_ idea. You can't do this by yourselves, it's too dangerous!" Before she knew it, she was out of her seat, running down the Great Hall, tears flowing down her face as she finally slammed her dormitory door shut.

They were leaving her. They were leaving her to go on possibly the most dangerous mission she'd ever encountered. Who knew when she would see them after they left? She thought that they had already reached a decision, that they were all going together. Apparently, they'd changed the plans without her knowledge.

A sob wrenched its way out of Hermione's throat as she cried, and she hurried to conceal her tears when she heard the portrait door open.

"Granger, what the hell are you doing?" Draco looked at her strangely as she sat in a heap on the floor.

And Draco. Hermione thought back to what Ginny said. _You-Know-Who is planning to recruit more Death Eaters during winter break. Blaise, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott – the whole lot of them!_ This sent tears flooding her eyes again, spilling over her eyelashes. She hastily wiped them away with the sleeve of her robe, but it didn't do much to conceal her puffy, wet eyes.

"Are you _crying_?" Draco asked, completely flummoxed. Hermione's breath hitched in response as she suppressed another sob. "Bloody hell, you look terrible. What happened to you?"

"N-Nothing," Hermione replied, her voice trembling.

"Don't be daft, people don't just cry their heart out for no reason." Draco walked over to stand in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed. "What's up with you?"  
>"Just leave me alone," Hermione whispered, wrapping her arms around her knees.<p>

Draco stared at her for a few more seconds. "Alright," he said slowly. "But only because I need to get to class. Don't think you're getting out of this one, Granger." He looked at her once more before heading into his room, returning a few seconds later with a couple textbooks. "Here," he threw a handkerchief at her. She could see the monogrammed _DLM _in the corner, in elegant script. She looked up to thank him, but he was already out the door.

"Excuse me?" Professor McGonagall's lips were so thinly pursed that they were practically invisible.

"The clothes that you found on the bleacher," Draco repeated, annoyed. "They're mine."

"Those clothes are yours, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall repeated skeptically. "All of them?"

"Yes," Draco replied uncomfortably.

One pencil thin eyebrow raised as suddenly the lost clothing zoomed to in front of the professor. Hermione's jeans hovered in front of Draco's face, and he could practically smell her on them.

"You mean to tell me that these," she indicated the pants with her wand, "and these," now at the shoes, almost half the size of his, "belong to you?"

"Yes. I mean, no." He fidgeted with his robes. "Why does it bloody matter whose clothes they really are? I'm taking them, aren't I?"

"Mr. Malfoy, I think we both know it is safe to presume that these articles of clothing most likely belong to a female. I have no problem believing that these pants belong to you. Especially," Her voice raised at this. "the fact that the initials _DM _are embroidered onto the hem of these trousers."

"Alright, fine! I was carrying my pants to the prefects bathroom to wash them because Granger threw up all over them-" That much was true. "-but on my way there, I see a light on the Quidditch pitch and go to see what was going on, I mean, I'm Head boy, aren't I? So I fly up there, and there's this Hufflepuff bunch about to shag right there-"

"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall said sharply.

"-I go to tell them to bugger off and they run away, so fast the girl leaves her ruddy clothes. And in the hurry that I am to catch them, I leave my clothes with hers on the floor." Draco finished, satisfied with his story. McGonagall, however, was not.

"Since there is no evidence to state otherwise, I will not punish you. However, if such activity happens again – like you said, you are Head Boy – there will be consequences." The floating clothes dropped into Draco's arms, and with one last stern look she dismissed him from her classroom.

Relieved, Draco made his way back to his dormitory into the portrait door, not sure what to expect. It had been four hours since he had last seen Hermione crying on the floor – because of Potter or Weasley, Draco was willing to bet – and he hoped she had calmed down a bit. His eyes wandered to her curled up figure on the couch, her head lifting up when she heard him come in.

He threw her pants and shoes at her wordlessly, and they landed an inch away from the couch.

"Thanks," she murmured, her head returning to its previous position.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake. Would you quit moping around? You're making this whole room so bloody depressing." Draco glared at the back of her head as she hid her head in the crook of her arm.

"Are you going to become a Death Eater over winter break?"

The question was so sudden and unexpected that it caught Draco completely off-guard. His whole body froze, and when Hermione turned her head again it was to find him in a state of shock.

"What?" he asked, his mouth dry. "Who told you that?"

"Ginny told me Harry said-"

"Never mind," he interrupted. "I should've known Potter was behind this. Fuck, can't he keep his lightning head out of anything?"

"So it's true." Hermione's eyes bore into his as she studied him, her chocolate eyes hard.

"So what if it is?" Draco asked sharply. "It's none of your damn business." Honestly, he didn't know if it was true or not himself. His father had hinted at it – becoming a Death Eater was the one way for his family to finally redeem themselves in the eyes of Voldemort – but nothing more. He didn't doubt it was true, though, and hated that Potter knew before he did.

"How could you?" Hermione was sitting up straight now, facing him. "After all he's done. All the people he's killed. He's not your ally, Draco-"

"And who is?" Draco shot back. "Potter? Weasley? _Dumbledore_? Don't act like you know fucking more than I do, Granger. You have no idea what the fuck I'm going through."

"Right, because I'm completely safe. Voldemort doesn't care about my blood status at all, does he? That I'm Muggleborn? Oh yeah, not to mention the fact that I'm friends with Harry Potter, the Chosen One? The one he's been trying to kill for seventeen years?" Hermione had stood up, her eyes flaming.

"Yeah, and it's not fucking difficult for me at all!" Draco shouted, anger coursing through his veins. "My dad's in Azkaban, and he may bloody well die there. My mum's at our house, scared shitless because Voldemort's using the place as his fucking headquarters!"

"You could leave!" Hermione said loudly, taking a step towards him and then, thinking better of it, halting. "Go into hiding! The Order could protect you, you know, you can come over to Dumbledore's side – we can protect your family, too. Your mother, at least-"

"I don't want your _fucking _help, alright? You think your Order can stop hundreds of Death Eaters who want nothing more than me dead?" If he really was to become a Death Eater, there's no way he couldn't do it – his mother, his father, _him_ – surely they'd all be killed. "You have Potter and Weasley to protect you, and I've got my parents to protect."

At this, Hermione looked away. "No, I don't," she said softly, feeling the tears come again.

"What are you talking about?" He was right, then – something had happened between the three of them. But she looked so upset that Draco found it hard to feel happy about this.

"I don't have Harry and Ron to protect me," Hermione repeated. "They're leaving after winter break. Without me," she added, her voice wavering.

"For what?" Draco asked, curiosity overcoming his anger.

"For-" Hermione caught herself at the last minute. If he did become a Death Eater, this information could turn deadly. "They're going somewhere. I don't know if I-"

"Can trust me?" Draco finished, staring at her watery eyes.

"Can tell you," Hermione corrected. "But then again, I _don't _know if I can trust you."

There was a pause, neither one speaking or looking away.

"Neither do I." The words were out before he could consider them, and he considered taking them back, fixing everything – but he couldn't. It was the truth.


	15. Just Can't Get Enough

"Granger," Blaise nodded as Hermione took her seat next to him for their Potions class. She had been studiously avoiding Harry and Ron for the past day, afraid she would burst into tears or start another argument with them if she opened her mouth. She had not seen Draco, either, ever since their conversation the previous night. He was already gone by the time she woke up the next morning, and failed to show up to any of their shared classes.

"Blaise," Hermione responded as she sat down. She could feel Harry and Ron's eyes boring holes into her back.

"Today we will be brewing Felix Felicis," Snape informed the class from the front of the room. "Now, since many of you are not – intelligent enough, should I say – to brew a potion of such complexity, we will not be testing them. You will produce a vial to give to me at the end of class. Work with your partners. Go."

Hermione was already halfway out of her seat when she noticed Harry and Ron had bolted to the storage room, waiting to ambush her.

"Why don't _you _get the ingredients today," Hermione offered to a sulky Blaise as she got back into her seat. He shot her a look of annoyance before unwillingly going and returning with the proper ingredients.

"What's the matter, Granger?" Blaise asked as he measured out the correct amount of bulbadox juice. "Finally gotten tired of being around Scarhead and Weasel?"

Hermione pursed her lips but did not respond as she sliced a sopophorus bean.

"What," Blaise eyed her with interest. "Potter refused your undying love? Weasley copied your essay?"

"Piss off, Blaise."

"What about Draco? Is there a reason why he's skulking around the Slytherin common room instead of up in the Head dormitories?" Hermione ignored this as well. "I would have thought he'd have no free time at all, what with your illicit love affair-"

The statement caught Hermione off guard, and her silver knife slipped from between her fingers. She let out a loud gasp as the sharp blade sliced across the palm of her other hand, which was holding the bean steady, leaving a deep, bleeding gash.

"Sensitive subject, is it?" Blaise smirked as she shot out of her seat, her hand throbbing.

"What's going on here?" Snape interjected, his calm voice icy.

"I sliced my hand-" Hermione began.

"Carelessness is not tolerated in my class, Miss Granger," Snape interrupted. "That'll be five points from Gryffindor."

A noise of indignation crept its way out of Hermione's mouth, making Snape's eyes narrow.

"I'll take her to the hospital wing!" Harry offered from across the room, standing up.

"It is Miss Granger's hand that is injured, not her feet," Snape sneered, and for once Hermione was grateful for his coldness towards Harry. "She can take herself, I am sure."

"No, she can't!" Ron argued. "I can take her, I'm done anyways-" Ron and Harry's potion chose to emit a loud hiss at that moment, black smoke seeping from the cauldron onto the table. Snape's eyes narrowed and he sat down, dejected.

"Very well," said Snape, turning to Hermione. "Mister Zabini will escort you. You both may leave."

Hermione shot a glare at Blaise before stalking out of the dungeon, wrapping her sleeve around her bleeding hand. Blaise caught up with her quickly, grabbing her uninjured hand and bringing them both to a halt.

"What?" Hermione snapped irritably, yanking her hand out of his grip.

"I'm serious," Blaise told her in a low voice. "If there's anything going on between you and Draco, it could be very dangerous for both of you-"

"There's nothing going on between us!" Hermione hissed. "And what is this coming from you? You're the one that started that bloody bet in the first place."

"I bet him he could shag you, not fall for you!" Blaise said, frustrated.

Hermione gave a shrill laugh. "Trust me, Malfoy is in no danger of _falling _for me – don't you Death Eaters have some code against that anyways?"

Blaise stared blankly at her. "I'm not a Death Eater. And neither is Draco."

Hermione paused. It was obvious that Blaise didn't know anything about what Harry said would happen over winter break. "It doesn't matter," she said quickly. "You still have the same beliefs. You don't honestly believe that Draco would touch a Mudblood, do you?"

Blaise shrugged. "It's not like you haven't snogged before. And done more than snog," he hinted, a smirk playing on his lips. Hermione felt her cheeks turn pink at the comment, and she remembered their last kiss. _Was _it possible?

"You're despicable," she told him as they entered the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey rushed towards them, grabbing Hermione's hand before she could even open her mouth and tell her what happened. Her hand glowed red as she felt the tip of the Healer's wand touch her palm, and a brief stinging sensation travelled up her arm before the wound sealed itself, showing no mark of the injury except a pink tint where the cut once was.

"Thank you," she said gratefully.

"No worries, my dear," Madam Pomfrey said hurriedly as she ushered them out of the room, closing the door tightly behind them.

Hermione blinked at their sudden exit, and saw out of the corner of her eye Blaise jiggling the doorknob.

"What was that about?" she wondered aloud.

"Didn't you see?" Blaise had given up on the door, choosing instead to peer through the crack in the window. "Fucking hell," he muttered before giving up completely.

"What was it?" Hermione asked curiously, pressing her ear against the door. Nothing.

"That lunatic, Trelawney. She was there, on a bed – there were teachers huddled around her, Dumbledore and McGonagall included." Blaise turned to look at her. "She's a Seer, isn't she? Obviously she saw something. Something valuable."

"Maybe she was just sick-"

"Yes, because Dumbledore usually comes to tend on sick professors," Blaise agreed sarcastically. "Brilliant, Granger, no wonder you're top of the class."

"Why do you even care?" Hermione asked suspiciously. "You said yourself you weren't a Death Eater-"

"That doesn't mean I can't help myself to potentially useful information-"

"But why would it be useful unless you were planning on giving it to Vol-"

"Shut up!" Blaise hissed, yanking her to the side as the doors flew open. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, and Madam Pomfrey all paraded out. Professor McGonagall stopped short at the sight of Hermione and Blaise.

"What are you-" her gaze travelled to Hermione, and her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "Miss Granger, Mr. Zabini. What are the two of you doing out here?"

"I cut my hand, Professor," Hermione lifted up her palm to show the traces of the injury. "Blaise was taking me to the hospital wing. We were just going back to class-"

"No," McGonagall interrupted, her eyes never leaving Hermione's face. "No, you may return to your dormitory – you too, Blaise." Blaise's eyes lit up at the prospect of missing his last class. After one last sweeping look, McGonagall rushed away from them, joining the other teachers.

"What was _that _about?" Hermione asked Blaise, bewildered.

"Who gives a shit?" he replied happily. "Never thought I'd be thanking Trelawney, but that nutjob actually did something useful for once."

Hermione thought back to her fifth year, when Harry found out it was Trelawney who made the prophecy about him and Voldemort. She turned to respond to Blaise, but found he had already disappeared down the corridor leading to the Slytherin dungeons, and decided to head up to her own dormitory as well.

When the portrait door to the Head dormitory opened, Hermione was greeted by a loud screech and swoop of feathers as a falcon descended on her, knocking her to the ground. Shrieking, Hermione crawled to the side and grabbed a vase, clubbing the giant bird over the head with it. It fell to the floor, unconscious, and Hermione scrambled to her feet, hot blood dripping onto her cheek from where the falcon's talon made contact with her temple.

"Fucking _hell_, Granger, what did you do?" Draco shouted as he burst out of his room. He stared at her bloody face and then at the unmoving bird on the ground. "Did you _kill _my bird?"

"Your _bird _almost killed _me_!" Hermione yelled. "What the hell is a _falcon _doing in our dormitory, are you completely _mental_? Have you been keeping it in your room all this time?"

"Are you mental?" Draco snapped. "It's my father's. I was supposed to send it back to him, but now you've gone and killed it-"

"I'm sorry I hurt your precious bird, _Malfoy_, I guess I was a little preoccupied with its claws on my face to worry about its safety!" Hermione said shrilly, reaching up to touch her wound gingerly. Blood gushed over her fingers.

"What the fuck are you doing here anyways?" Draco responded angrily. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Aren't _you_?" she retorted.

"That's none of your business," he snapped.

"Right, it's none of my business how a falcon came and practically tore me to pieces!" Hermione faltered as the pain from the cut on her forehead clouded her vision. "Merlin," she hissed as she grabbed the wall to keep from falling.

"Bloody hell, Granger," Draco muttered as he grabbed her and lead her to a chair.

"Why doesn't your father use a bloody _owl_?" Hermione replied angrily.

"Malfoy's don't use _owls_," Draco said in disgust. He grabbed his wand from his pocket and pointed it to Hermione's forehead, siphoning off the blood. She felt a warmth spread through her body as he muttered a healing charm, and the pain quickly subsided.

"Where did you learn to do healing charms?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Any idiot knows how to do a healing charm," Draco scoffed. "Except maybe Weasley, I doubt he knows how to do anything, really-"

"Would you shut up about Ron-"

"How the hell are he and Potter are supposed to survive on their mystical journey without you, anyways? Biggest bunch of morons-"

"Don't-" Hermione paused, considering his words. Was that a compliment to her, or was he just insulting Harry and Ron as always? "What did your father want?" she asked, changing the topic.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," Draco said sharply as he reached up to brush a finger over her wound. Seeming satisfied, he pulled back, staring at her. "Why did you get excused from class?"

"Who said I got excused?" Hermione asked defiantly, even though she did.

"Please," Draco rolled his eyes. "Hell would freeze over before you skipped class."

"Then I guess it did, because in case you forgot, I _have _skipped class." There was a silence as they both remembered ditching classes to go to the prefect's bathroom a couple days ago.

Draco's face twisted into a smirk. "How could I forget?"

Hermione was saved from responding by a feeble stir from the falcon's body. "You better get that bird away from me," she warned. Draco chuckled as he got up to pick up the bird, which visibly relaxed at his touch and shook itself to its feet. After stroking his head a few times, he attached a letter to its leg and opened the window, the falcon opening its wings and flying outside, wings weakly fluttering in the wind.

Hermione's thoughts turned sour as she considered what might be in the letter, leading her to relive their fight the previous night. She was just about to open her mouth to demand knowledge of what was in the letter when Draco grabbed his broomstick from the floor and swung open the portrait door.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked angrily.

"Quidditch practice," he called over his shoulder as the door shut behind him, leaving Hermione to fume silently at the prospect of him becoming a Death Eater.

* * *

><p>After hiding away in her dormitory for the better half of two hours, Hermione decided to finally head down to the Great Hall and face Harry and Ron, an idea that did not appeal to her in the slightest way. She took the longest possible route down to dinner and could already feel the tears reaching her eyes when she saw Harry and Ron sitting at the Gryffindor table. They shot out of their seats when they saw her, and any fight she had been planning on having evaporated when Harry extended his arms.<p>

She flung her arms around him, a sob bursting from her lips. She felt Ron rubbing her back as she pulled away, wiping tears from her cheeks.

"We're sorry, Hermione," Ron said earnestly. "But it's for the best."

"You know, with all the spells you've helped teach us it's going to be like you're there anyways," Harry said, smiling at her.

"And," Ginny added, getting up to wrap her arm around Hermione. "You lot can't just leave me all alone."

Hermione couldn't help smiling back at them. "Write me whenever you can," she commanded. Harry and Ron both nodded vehemently, and she sat down, satisfied for now. She didn't want to be angry during her last day with them, and let their normal conversation smooth over her, pretending everything was perfectly ordinary.

"Tomorrow, I'm not letting you two out of my sight." She told them as they got up to return to their common rooms.

"I'd expect nothing less from you, 'Mione," Ron grinned. Harry chuckled next to him, and she gave both of them quick hugs before returning to her dormitory, her spirits much higher than they were earlier. She entered her common room smiling, but her mood quickly changed when she saw the heavy black trunk next to Draco's door.

"What's going on?" she asked as he came out of his room to put a pile of folded clothes inside. "Isn't it a bit early to be packing? We still have classes tomorrow."

"_You _may," Draco agreed as he continued filling up his suitcase. "I happen to be leaving tomorrow morning."

Hermione stared at him, shocked. "Why?"

"So many questions, Granger. I think you should know by now that I probably will not answer anything you ask me."

Hermione peered into his room, which was almost stripped bare. "Why are you packing so many of your things? Winter break is only a week long, you needn't bring so much clothes-"

"What are you, my mother?" Draco said irritably as he tossed some potion ingredients into a bag, which then went flying into the trunk.

"Hopefully you're much nicer to her," Hermione said, annoyed. "Would you answer the question?"

He used his wand to slam his suitcase closed. "Fine," he snapped. "I'm packing all my things because I might not be coming back after break." He smirked as Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Don't be so sad, Granger. I'm sure I'll visit you frequently in your dreams."

"Why wouldn't you come back?" Hermione asked slowly, folding her arms across her chest.

"No one said I wasn't coming back. It all depends on how a few things pan out." He raised an eyebrow at her defensive stance.

"_Or_," Hermione countered, "you'll be staying at your house while your Dark Mark heals-"

Draco's expression quickly turned dark. "Careful, Granger. Don't talk so much about things that you know so little about."

"I think you've told me enough," Hermione said sharply. "There's not much to know, anyways. All Death Eaters are the same. Cruel, vile, and completely evil."

"You're hurting my feelings, Granger. Don't tell me those three words apply to me as well?" Draco smirked as Hermione glared at him, and chose to walk slowly towards her so that they were chest to chest. "Well? Go on. What else would you use to describe me? Loathsome? Repulsive? Despica-"

His words were cut off as Hermione grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked him towards her, bringing his face to hers. Her lips sought his desperately, and she sighed into his mouth as she pulled away, letting go of his clothes and turning around to walk away.

She had barely walked three steps when she felt Draco's hand grab her arm and twirl her around, slamming her back against the door of his room as he grabbed her face and claimed her lips again. She responded urgently, grabbing handfuls of his hair as she pressed her body against his, his teeth pulling on her lower lip and scraping at her jaw. His lips reached back up to capture hers, and she opened her mouth willingly so his tongue could sweep across her teeth. Hermione pushed him back roughly so she could tug his shirt off, and barely had time to admire his sculpted body before his mouth was on hers again, his hands gripping her hips as he half carried her to his bed.

This was usually the part where one of them would stop, pull back, and force themselves to face reality. However, Hermione had no intention of letting that happen again as Draco lowered himself on top of her, kissing her feverishly as his hands worked to unbutton her sweater, pushing it off her shoulders and tossing it off the bed. She fumbled for his belt as his lips attacked hers, tearing it from its loops and pulling his trousers over his hips. Draco pulled away and stepped out of them. Instead of returning to Hermione's eagerly awaiting lips, he settled himself between her legs, unzipping her jeans and slowly pulling them off of her. Impatient, Hermione got into a sitting position and kicked them off, grabbing Draco's arm and pulling him over her again. She didn't miss his chuckle before it was silenced by her mouth.

She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh as he kissed down her jawbone, to her neck, sucking lightly on a spot underneath her ear before moving on to her collarbone, her chest… He paused above her, and she answered his unspoken question by reaching behind and unfastening her bra, letting it fall to the floor. A smile played on Draco's lips and Hermione was stunned by his beauty – already so blatantly obvious, his rare smile put him on the border between beautiful and godlike. His hands reached up to stroke the sides of her breasts before he dipped his head to kiss them gently, his tongue trailing over the sensitive skin and making Hermione gasp. She felt his fingers brush her hips as he hooked his fingers into her underwear and slowly pulled them off, and she returned the favor, leaving them both completely naked.

They were both still for a moment, staring at each other with flushed cheeks, breathing heavily. Hermione realized this was the first time since the start of everything that she had seen Draco naked. She reached up to trail her fingers down her chest, drinking in the sight of him.

"If you want me to stop," he whispered, "I will."

His breath tickled her neck as he spoke. "I don't want you to," Hermione breathed.

"You know this won't change anything," he warned softly.

Hermione stared into his eyes, pools of silver surrounding his pupils. "Maybe it will."

And this time it was Hermione who started the kiss, pulling Draco down to touch her lips to his, distracting him from anything he was about to say. It worked, and he deepened the kiss hungrily as he positioned himself in front of her.

The tip of his erection brushed against Hermione's entrance, making her shiver underneath him, and she held her breath as he slowly moved into her, pushing past her barrier. Her eyes squeezed shut as she felt the rip of pain, and she couldn't help letting a gasp escape her lips. She opened her eyes when she finally adjusted to him, and found him staring at her intently.

"Are you okay?" Was his voice laced with concern, or was that just her imagination?

"Yes," Hermione sighed, pleasure replacing pain as she ground slowly against him, creating a delicious friction between them.

Draco shifted above her and pulled out slowly before entering her again, which earned collective moans from both of them.

"Draco," Hermione whimpered, her fingers scratching at his back. "More."

Following her instructions, Draco quickened their pace, and Hermione moaned with pleasure as he thrust into her repeatedly, her fingernails raking down his skin, his lips on hers. She felt him groan softly into her mouth, and relished in the sound. "Oh, Merlin," she gasped as Draco's fingers found their way to her clit, rubbing gently on the sensitive nub.

It didn't take much after that for Hermione to break, and with a shudder she came explosively, crying out so loudly she hoped against hope that the walls were soundproof. She felt Draco come soon after, hot inside her. They were both covered in sweat, and he placed his sticky forehead on hers for a while, both of them breathing heavily. Tentatively, Hermione tilted her face so her lips could touch his one last time before he slid out of her and collapsed onto his bed next to her, sighing.

"What the hell did we just do?" Draco muttered, raking through his hair with his fingers.

"Can you think about that later? I don't really feel like fighting with you right now," Hermione said softly, closing her eyes.

"Really. Well, now I know how to shut you up in the future."

The thought of that gave Hermione the best sleep in her life.

**Author's Note:**

**Yes, they finally did it! Haha :P I figured I had drawn it out long enough, and it was kind of necessary to move the plot along... I added some new twists here and there so I'm definitely changing the summary now, and there definitely will be less lemons from here out (Sorry!).**

**Also, to my reviewer who pointed out an error in the previous chapter, I have gone back and fixed it. Thank you!**


	16. Something Wicked This Way Comes

Hermione woke up with a start at dawn, feeling the weight shift on her bed. _No, _Draco's _bed_, she reminded herself, her lips curling slightly. Her smile quickly vanished when she turned to her side and saw Draco pulling trousers on over his boxers, his messy hair almost covering his silver eyes.

"Where are you going?" She asked sleepily, pulling the blanket over her shoulders.

He jumped, startled by her voice, and hit his head on the wall. "Bloody hell," he muttered. She could tell by his expression that he had hoped she wouldn't wake up. "I'm leaving, Granger. I told you I was this morning."

"Oh." Awkwardness settled between them, and Draco crossed his arms over his chest while he studied her. "How are you leaving?"

"Apparating." Draco paused. "Snape's coming with me."

"Snape?" Hermione asked, surprised. "Where are you going?"

"Like I said yesterday, nothing you need to concern yourself with." Draco turned around, grabbing a sweater and pulling it over his head.

"Oh," Hermione repeated, crestfallen. "I guess I was hoping you'd changed your mind about telling me."

"I haven't changed my mind about anything, Granger." He looked away as he said this, and Hermione frowned.

"I see," she murmured, her happy bubble from the night before dissipating. Humiliation seeped into her skin and she ducked her head under the blankets, inhaling a friendly reminder of what they had done the night before. Her frown deepened as a dark feeling grew in the pit of her stomach. What had she done?

"Granger."

She pulled the blankets down to uncover her eyes, the soft fabric still hiding the red of her cheeks. Draco rolled his eyes and pulled the blanket down, only stopping when Hermione yelped as it came precariously close to revealing her breasts.

"In case I don't come back to Hogwarts," he began slowly, unsure of what to say next, "I-"

"Then we'll probably fight each other at one point or another during this war, so save your goodbyes." Hermione snapped, turning away from him.

Draco glared at her. "I have no intention of fighting you, Granger."

"Really," Hermione said sarcastically. "It must be the other Death Eaters who kill and torture Muggleborns, then."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not a Death Eater."

"But you will be," Hermione countered.

"Maybe," Draco agreed. "But Salazaar Slytherin will have to roll over in his grave before they accept a blood traitor into their own." His voice was casual, but his face was twisted with dark humor.

"Blood traitor?" Hermione echoed, confused. "Why would you be a blood traitor? Your family is more pureblood than any I've ever heard of."

"Don't be daft, Granger. Shagging a Mudblood tends to overrule the blood factor."

Hermione gaped at him. _She _was the reason he was now a blood traitor? She thought back to what Blaise said the other day. "But surely shagging a Muggleborn isn't _that _bad? I mean, I'm sure some twisted Death Eater has taken advantage of an innocent Muggleborn sometime before."

Draco's eyes narrowed at her. "And am I this twisted Death Eater you're talking about? I don't remember taking advantage of you, Granger. You were more than willing yesterday."

Hermione's cheeks burned as embarrassment washed over her. "I didn't mean _you_," she said hotly. Pausing, she considered what he said. "So you're now a blood traitor because you wanted to have sex with me and did so willingly?"

Draco's usually cool exterior faltered at her words. "I didn't _want _to have sex with you-"

"Well, your actions proved otherwise-"

"_You _weren't exactly pushing me off, either!" He snapped angrily.

"No, I wasn't," Hermione agreed, "because I _wanted _you to."

Draco's eyes widened, and he found himself at a loss for words.

"Lots of girls do, Granger," he finally said, grabbing his jacket from a chair and giving her one last sweeping look. "I'm leaving now-"

Draco was jerked to the side as Hermione launched out of the bed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she pressed her lips to his, almost painfully. The blanket had fallen to her lap, but she ignored it as she continued kissing him heatedly, her tongue dipping between his lips.

Draco knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help his body's instant reaction to her. His hands grabbed her bare waist as he pushed her back onto the bed, his mouth attacking hers as her hands tangled in his hair. It wasn't until he felt Hermione tugging at his jacket when he returned to reality, pulling himself away from her quickly.

"Damn it, Granger!" Draco yelled angrily, stumbling away from her bare body, lying invitingly on the sheets. Her cheeks were tinted pink and her lips slightly swollen, and it took him all of his strength not to pull her back to him and finish what they started. "Don't fucking do that-"

"Why are you such a coward, Draco?" Hermione shouted, wrapping the blankets around her as she stood up. "Why can't you just admit that there's something between us-"

"There is _nothing _between us!" Draco shouted back. "There _can't _be anything between us."

"Why?" Hermione asked, frustrated. "Because I'm a Mudblood? I think you broke that barrier a long time ago, the first time you snogged me. _You _snogged _me_, Malfoy, not the other way around, so don't try to pin the blame on me-"

"It just wouldn't fucking _work_!" Draco interrupted loudly. "Do you honestly think anything good could come out of this? _Us_? We hate each other, Granger. We're polar opposites."

"I don't hate you anymore, Draco." Hermione folded her arms tightly across her chest. "I thought you would have realized that when I let you take my virginity-"

"Which was fucking stupid of you to do," Draco muttered bitterly.

"Maybe it was," Hermione said coldly. "But I don't regret it, even if you might-"

"I didn't say I regretted it, Granger-"

"Well, you weren't exactly saying how much you loved it either-"

It was Draco who started it this time, and Hermione suddenly found herself wrapped inside Draco's arms, his lips crushing hers with such force that she fell against the wall, his hands the only things keeping her upright. Her hands found their way to his hair again, and she moaned as she felt him against every inch of her skin.

The kiss ended much too quickly for her liking. Draco pulled back so that their bodies weren't touching, but his hands were still firmly gripping her waist. They were both panting slightly.

"Fuck, Hermione," Draco breathed. "You're more dangerous than any Death Eater I've ever known."

Hermione slowly smiled and relaxed in his hold, her head automatically tilting up when his dipped down, their lips meeting sweetly for a few seconds before pulling apart, Draco letting go of her waist and grabbing his jacket, which had fallen to the floor. He gave Hermione one last scorching look before grabbing his suitcase and leaving the room. Hermione let out a long breath as she heard the common room door close, unsure of the next time she would see the Slytherin.

The day passed too quickly for her liking. She had planned on spending her last day with Harry and Ron, since they, too, were leaving with no set date of returning. Hermione could feel her mood darkening as she considered this; Draco, Harry, and Ron all were leaving with no intention of coming back. Where did that leave _her_?

She had just settled into a game of wizarding chess with Ron (a game she did not like at all, but she figured since he was leaving she might as well appease him for once) when a third year tapped her on the shoulder with a letter – Professor Dumbledore summoning her to his office. Her eyes widened in surprise, as it was usually Harry who received such summons. Her surprise doubled when she saw the word at the end of the parchment.

_Hurry_.

Jolting out of her seat, she quickly spilled the news to Harry and Ron before running out of the room, sprinting to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, spitting out 'Treacle tart', and leaping up the stairs to knock on the wooden door.

The door flung open to reveal a disheveled Professor McGonagall. "Ms. Granger," she nodded hurriedly as she closed the door behind him. "We-" she stopped suddenly, looking at Professor Dumbledore with a worried expression.

The headmaster was sitting in a regal chair behind his desk, and he stood when his name was mentioned, making his way over to where Hermione stood, breathless, with a cramp in her side.

"What's going on?" she panted. "Is something wrong? Should I get Harry?"

"No," Dumbledore shook his head solemnly. "This is for your ears only. Listen closely, Hermione." He peered at her over his half-moon glasses before continuing.

"We have just received notice that, since the Death Eaters have been unsuccessful in their attempts to penetrate Hogwarts to get to Harry, they have chosen instead to go after the families of his friends and students. Justin Finch-Fletchley's parents were found dead this morning. Penelope Clearwater's parents were tortured by means of the Cruciatus Curse. It was necessary for us to check your parents well-being-"

"Are they okay?" Hermione asked suddenly, her eyes wide. Her parents… No, they couldn't be dead…

"They are fine," Dumbledore reassured, causing Hermione to let out a big breath and collapse limply into a chair. "But not for long. We have put as many protective enchantments around their house as we can. However, some of them have already been breached. It was impossible for them to withstand the Death Eaters for long, so we put a Fidelius Charm on the house, with Charity Burbage as our secret keeper – she was killed this afternoon."

Hermione gasped at Dumbledore, her heart skipping a couple beats. There was no way an unprotected house could stand against an army of Death Eaters. And the punishment for them was sure to be worse than death; punishment for being friends with Harry.

"We need to get them somewhere safe!" She shouted, shooting out of her chair. "Can't they come here? Or to the Burrow? You have to protect them, Professor-"

"We have a matter of minutes," Dumbledore said quietly. "There is… one option."

"What?" Hermione asked desperately. "Whatever it is, do it!"

"A memory charm, Ms. Granger," Professor McGonagall finished. "We need you to perform a Memory Charm on your parents. It is the surest way – and it will only be stronger if you are the one to do it."

The breath was knocked out of her lungs, and Hermione fell back into the chair.

"What?" she whispered. "You – you want me to erase me from my parents memory?"

"It is the only way," Dumbledore said solemnly. "I'm sorry, Hermione. If you do not wish to do it, we will get an Auror to-"

"No," Hermione said, standing up shakily. "No, I-I'll do it. I have to protect them. Let's go!" she urged, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes. "Hurry! They have to be safe." She stumbled towards the fireplace, assuming they were going to get there through the Floo network.

"Apparation will be quicker," Dumbledore murmured, holding his arm out to her. She held on to him weakly, trying not to cry. All her memories of her with her parents flew past her eyes. Birthdays, vacations, laughter, hugs… they would all be gone. Disappeared. She knew she could reverse the spell, but what if the memory damage was irreversible? What if they forgot forever?

And then her mind went spinning as she felt herself get sucked into an impossibly small tube, pressure squeezing the life – and tears – out of her as she was spat out the other end, out of a fireplace and into a living room.

Her living room.

She watched the back of her parents heads turn at the sound of the noise. They were watching the news – of course, her father always watched the news on Fridays. She bit back a sob as she saw the recognition on her mother's face.

"Hermione? What are you-"

"_Obliviate!_" she shouted, before she could change her mind, before she could stop to consider the looks on her parents' faces.

Her arm wavered as she struggled to hold the spell, and memories whizzed past her. Her fifth birthday, when they went to London… the day she got her Hogwarts letter in the mail… her parents' twentieth anniversary… And she watched as she disappeared from her memories. The plane ride to Spain, where an empty seat lie between her mother and father. A typical Sunday dinner, with only two placemats and plates. The tears were flowing freely now, as she watched her life disappear before her eyes, and it was with a sob that she finally dropped her arm, wanting to die from exhaustion. The dazed stupor that occurred after memory loss was enough to distract her parents for a few seconds, and that was all it took for Dumbledore to grasp her arm again and pull her away, away from her home, away from her family, away from the people she loved.

She felt rather then saw her surroundings as she re-entered Dumbledore's office.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye," she whispered softly. She felt a hand on her back, rubbing gently.

"You did the right thing," Professor McGonagall said consolingly. "The spell can be reversed, and your parents will be safe for now."

Hermione nodded numbly, backing out of the room and stumbling down the stairs. She made her way to her common room blindly, her tears warping her vision, and she barely recognized Harry and Ron's shocked faces before she flung herself into their arms, telling them the whole story in an unsteady voice. They calmed and comforted her, and it did well to distract her from the dull pain in her heart.

What if she never got the chance to reverse the spell?

_No, don't think about that_, she thought firmly. She _would _reverse it.

"It's okay, Hermione. Once we destroy the Horcruxes it'll all be over," Harry said soothingly.

"Don't remind me," Hermione moaned. "I wish you two didn't have to go… It's so dangerous, and who knows when I'm going to see you again? You, my parents, Dra-" she froze, stopping immediately. "I won't have anyone else," she finished softly.

This started another conversation about how Harry and Ron were sure to come back in one piece, and an hour of reassurance finally lifted some of the heaviness off of Hermione's shoulders. She found herself being lulled to sleep by the voices of her best friends, realizing too late that she hadn't said her goodbye's to them, either.


	17. Commands

**Author's Note: Sorry about the infrequent updates! School is so busy right now so I haven't really had time to write as much. Hope you enjoy this chapter, I'm kind of building more of the plot here. Reviews are always welcome (:**

"Draco!"

Draco had barely caught a glimpse of his mother before her arms were around him, her heavy perfume suffocating him as she pressed him to her chest.

"Mother," he smiled slightly as he pulled away from her embrace. "Father," he said with a curt nod in his father's direction. Lucius Malfoy clapped a hand on Draco's back stiffly as he led him down the driveway to Malfoy Manor.

"Oh, Draco, you'll love the new look I gave your bedroom – the blankets are the softest in the world, with real phoenix feathers. Isn't it grand, Lucius?" Draco rolled his eyes as his mother babbled on. He knew for a fact that Voldemort was using their house as headquarters, and he was sure it was only as a distraction that she chose to redecorate his room, not for his actual pleasure. Not that he gave a fuck what his room looked like anyways. He tended to stay as far away from the dreaded house as possible.

He looked around at the elegantly trimmed hedges, the powerful, towering mansion in front of him. It was strange how normal it all looked, considering his father was practically being held captive by the Dark Lord himself, who just happened to be beyond the heavy wooden door.

"Is Vol – the Dark Lord, is he here?" Draco asked his father. He heard his mother's rant stop suddenly.

"Yes. You would do well to obey his every order, Draco." Lucius commanded, never breaking his stride as his wand swung the door open.

Draco blanched at the sight, taking a step back and almost stumbling down the stairs.

"_Move_," He heard his father hiss as he shoved him through the doorway.

The usually empty dining table was crowded with Death Eaters. Rookwood, Yaxley, Dolohov. Fenrir Greyback lurking in the corner. Peter Pettigrew, twitching incessantly. Bellatrix Lestrange, who was now rising to greet her sister as they entered the foyer. Mulciber, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle.

They were talking quietly amongst themselves, apparently oblivious to the bloodied, unconscious woman that hung upside down above them, as though suspended on an invisible string.

"Lucius." High, cold, and commanding, Voldemort's voice rang out through the room and sent shivers down Draco's spine. He saw him rise from his seat at the head of the table and make his way towards them, Nagini gliding beside him. "Ah," his voice took on a pleased note as his eyes swept over Draco. "The youngest Malfoy, come to join us. Welcome, Draco."

Draco nodded slightly. Merlin, he was creepy.

"We were just discussing the event that is to unfold this coming night. You are aware, I presume, of your near future as a Death Eater? As one of us?" Voldemort's snake eyes peered into his, almost inquisitively.

Draco tilted his head to glance at Lucius, who was staring straight ahead. No, his father hadn't told him anything, that bastard. He had to find out from _Hermione_, of all people –

No. This was not the right time to think about her.

"Yes," he replied calmly.

The Dark Lord smiled slowly. "Good, good," he whispered. "Your friends will be joining us of course… Vincent? Gregory? Theodore? I am sure you are familiar with them."

Draco nodded again, wondering about Blaise. How did he get out of this? His eyes whipped again to the woman slowly rotating above the table.

Voldemort's eyes followed his. "Ah, yes," His smile turned into a sneer. "Come, have a seat, Draco." He placed his long fingers on his back as he led him to the table. Draco fought the urge to run away screaming and instead placed himself in the chair Peter Pettigrew had just vacated.

"This is Charity Burbage, former Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Do you recognize her?"

Draco shook his head, eyes wide as he watched the woman. She couldn't be more than thirty five.

"She seems to believe in the idea that Muggleborn witches and wizards are – should I say, _equal _to purebloods."

A snicker echoed through the room, disappearing instantly when Voldemort held up a hand.

"You see, Draco. This is the next step in our quest for change in the wizarding world. We must dispel the common rumor that Muggleborns and purebloods are equal. They are _not_. Once we rid ourselves of the vermin clouding our society, we will have a chance at a far more superior, _pure _wizard race.

"That is why I have called you today. I have received notice that Harry Potter and his friend Ronald Weasley have begun a journey. Dare I ask you know of their secret mission?"

Another shake of his head.

"I did not think so. However, you may find yourself familiar with a certain Muggleborn friend of theirs. Hermione Granger?" Voldemort's voice indicated no implications, but Draco could feel his palms beginning to sweat.

"I know of her, my Lord," Draco said tonelessly. "But I do not know her."

"It is just as well. You will have a mission of your own, Draco. You, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott – this is your aim. Find out where Harry Potter is. Do whatever it takes. Find out what he is looking for. Deliver the information to me. Do this and you shall be-" Voldemort paused, his eyes flickering to Lucius, "heavily rewarded."

It took all of Draco's effort not to sigh with relief. It was ludicrously simple – he was sure Potter or Weasley could not keep their mission to themselves, and Hermione was sure to know. All it would take was a little wheedling –

But what if she found out? _She won't_, he told himself firmly.

"Certainly, my Lord."

"There is one other thing," Voldemort idly ran his fingers across his wand. "After you find out where Harry Potter is, trap her. Trap all the Muggleborn witches and wizards you can find – I will come to Hogwarts myself when I am finished with Potter and show Hogwarts how Muggleborns should _really _be treated." A murmur of assent ran through the Death Eaters.

No way. No fucking way.

"I don't-" he began, but was cut off almost instantly by his father, who rushed forward.

"Yes, my Lord! He will do it, I know my son will be a great asset to you-"

"Yes, Lucius," Voldemort said coldly. "I am well aware of Draco's talent as a young wizard, and I am hoping he will be able to assist me, as you failed to do so."

Draco saw his father visibly shrink against the wall, hiding back into the shadows.

"My Lord," he murmured, before leaving the room with Narcissa.

"Now," Voldemort said sharply, turning again to face Draco. His reptilian eyes bore into Draco's grey ones as he spoke. "Get some rest, Draco. You will need it for tonight." His lips curled into another bloodcurdling smile as Draco stumbled out of his seat, only daring to break into a run when he was sure he was out of Voldemort's line of sight.

* * *

><p>"Why didn't you tell me?" Draco yelled at his father, who stood up stiffly as he entered the kitchen. "You didn't even <em>think <em>to tell me I was going to become a fucking _Death Eater_ over winter break? What, it just slipped your mind?"

"Hush, Draco," Lucius snapped. "You knew. It was inevitable. You will pay our family's dues and it will be over-"

"_Our family_ owes nothing," Draco spat. "It's _you_ that wronged him."

"Silence!" His father hissed. "You will do as he says, or pay the consequences."

"Why am I always the one who has to pay for _your _mistakes?" Draco growled angrily.] There was a resounding smack in the room as Lucius' palm hit Draco's face. He had just lunged to retaliate when he felt an arm enclose around his wrist, yanking him back.

"Draco," He heard his mother say shakily. "Let's go to bed, shall we?"

Shooting one last loathing glare at his father, Draco stormed out of the room, his mother directly behind him. He swung open the door to his bed so hard it dented the wall, fuming with rage.

"Draco," his mother said soothingly. "It'll all be alright." She reached up and rubbed his back, her sleeve falling down a little and revealing her own Dark Mark.

"Does it hurt?" he asked softly, hating how childish he sounded.

"Yes," Narcissa said sadly. "But it'll all be over soon."


End file.
